Eloquence of a Secret: Tommy Knows!
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: Tag: Season 1. / AU - Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning i.e. After the kidnapping, Tommy confronts Oliver about what he saw. [COVER ART By: LaDemonessa] Includes: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Drama/Angst,
1. Chapter 1: Pilot

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, or it's characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 1 - "Pilot"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Summary:** _After the kidnapping, Tommy confronts Oliver about what he saw._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Pilot"**

Tommy had been quiet, distracted. It was understandable; they'd both just been drugged and kidnapped two hours earlier.

An ambulance had checked them both out at the scene; Tommy was uninjured, but when the EMTs discovered that Oliver had been Tasered, they had wanted to take him to the hospital to get properly checked out. But the last thing Oliver wanted was to be at the hospital again. He assured them the he was fine and they had no choice but to release him. Being electrocuted, unfortunately was nothing new to Oliver. Just another thing he'd learned to endure on the island, in Hong Kong and Russia.

The police were kind enough to let the pair give their statements at the Queen Mansion, but that was the extension of said kindness as far as Quentin Lance was concerned.

"And what about you?" Lance directed the cutting question Tommy's way. "You, uh, see this hood-guy?" his finger tapped harshly at the rudimentary sketch of a faceless guy in a hood on the low table.

"I saw..." Tommy tried to shake himself from his muddled thoughts. He looked up to find Oliver giving him a piercing look. It took effort to tear his eyes away. "Just movement. Everything blurry." He turned his eyes downward from the heavy gazes. "I was kind of out of it."

He zoned out again, because the next he focused, it was to Oliver standing from the loveseat, as the others departed.

"Oliver...?" he rose to his feet.

Oliver turn to him. "Alright, buddy?"

"Can we..." Tommy bit his lip. "Talk?"

"Tommy, you should go home, get some rest." Oliver put a friendly arm around his shoulder and started to lead him from the room. "I'll call the driver. It's been a crazy day."

"Just—stop." Tommy pulled out from under his arm. "You're treating me like a child. We were both kidnapped today, both drugged. But _you_ were tortured. _You_ ," Tommy stopped, choking on the word, "K-" He pursed his lips, his jaw jumping as he fought to finish; it was the millisecond of Oliver's _Oh, Shit!_ expression that he caught that pushed him to. "There was no guy in a hood. There was just- just you, me, and those three masked guys."

Tense, Oliver quickly shut the sitting room door, his fingertips on Tommy's chest. "Of course there was a guy in a hood. Why would I make that up, Tommy?"

"I don't know," Tommy agreed. "Why would you, Oliver? Because I know what I saw."

"If you're so sure," Oliver returned. "Why didn't you say anything to Lance?"

"I'm confused, conflicted... scared!" he admitted. "What the hell, Oliver?!"

Oliver stonewalled, "What exactly do you want me to say to these crazy accusations, Tommy? Hm?"

"Oh, I don't know," Tommy mocked angrily, "How about the truth?" he threw up his hands.

"The less you know, the better." Oliver informed him coldly.

"The less- no, screw that!" Tommy shook his head. "Tell me what the hell is going on, right now, or I _will_ tell Lance what I saw!" he pointed at the door.

"Damnit, Tommy!" Oliver cursed, running a hand over his short-cropped hair. He paced a distance away. "This is just something I have to do, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Tommy was horrified. "You killed those men, Oliver!"

"Easy! Keep your voice down." Oliver growled.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Do you not want people to find out?" Tommy returned in a still-loud voice. "Keep talking, buddy. _Explain._ "

Oliver sighed heavily. "I had no other choice. They weren't after a ransom. They were digging—they wanted information."

Tommy paused at that. "What information?"

Oliver went tight-lipped.

Tommy narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure Lance won't be as nice with these questions. He'd like nothing more than to lock you up and throw away the key."

Oliver took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned heavily on the back of the love seat. "All I know is what my dad told me before everything went to shit."

Tommy was quiet.

"Are you going to tell on me?" Oliver asked, dropping his hand.

"You ask that as if you broke a vase instead of killed three people." He was incredulous.

"I need to know, Tommy." Oliver said intently, straightening from the couch.

"I don't know." Tommy replied honestly. "I need to think. I need to process." He closed his eyes briefly and licked his lips, "But I think we should cancel the homecoming party."

"What?" Oliver shook his head. "No. We can't."

Tommy narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the man. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but... putting aside the whole killing-thing, we were just _kidnapped_ and you think it would be good to have a huge party?"

"Yes." Oliver nodded. "We need to appear normal. We're playboys, with all the shit we've gotten into, a little kidnapping isn't going to stop us from an awesome party!"

"No." Tommy scoffed. "I don't know what _you_ are, but that's not what I want to be for the rest of my life. In a couple years we're going to be thirty. I don't plan on being that sad."

"Tommy..." the blond pleaded.

"Jesus, Oliver." Tommy carded his fingers through his dark hair helplessly.

 **X**

Tommy found himself in another unpleasant encounter with Lance. Because everything was not fine, everything was not okay. And it sure as hell wasn't normal! Not that anyone else seemed to realize it. Because Tommy was good at that; hiding _the-real_ way too uniformly behind that charming smile and mischievous blue eyes that got him into trouble as much as out of it.

Oliver suddenly appeared next to him. Tommy watched the man from the corner of his eye as he gave the detective the expectant sarcastic responses to his accusations. It quickly turned of course, like back at the house, to Sara, before Lance's partner pulled him away.

Tommy turned to Oliver, the pair isolated. "Some coincidence, huh?" he remarked. Oliver raised a eyebrow in accordance. "You asking to have your party here and that Hunt guy getting robbed, psh, and by the same guy that rescued us from the warehouse. I'm not quite drunk enough to be seeing double, but that some trick you pulled, buddy." He tapped Oliver's chest with his drink hand. "Guess I'm just the distraction, isn't that what the pretty assistant is for?"

"You're drunk, Tommy."

"I'm getting there." He wasn't, but he wished he was. "So this was you're plan from the st-"

"If I were you, Tommy." Oliver said lowly, "I'd just be glad I'm alive." He went to turn.

"Hey!" Tommy barked, done playing and grabbed Oliver's arm, stopping him. "That was fucked up, what you just said."

Oliver gave a contrite sigh. "You're right. I'm sorry." He glanced at his friend's hand, but Tommy didn't release his arm.

He tightened his hand. "What happened to you on that island?" he questioned imploringly.

"A lot." Oliver's throaty answer was all to brief, yet crushingly heavy.

Tommy saw such deep pain and sorrow in the blond's eyes before the shutters slammed shut and it was like it never even happened. Tommy dropped his hand and watched as the fake-Ollie got the party started again.

"Normal," he muttered, "Yeah, right."

Tommy drained his glass and turned back to the bar. He was sure alcohol would not alleviate this situation, just like it never did—but it sure as hell gave a great illusion of it. And he needed it badly right now because reality was titled on a broken axel.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _What did you think? I am hoping to do something similar with other episodes. I have at least some ideas for the next three episodes, so… perhaps something to look forward to?_

 _y_


	2. Chapter 2: Honor Thy Father

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, or it's characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 2 - "Honor Thy Father"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy finally manages to wring some truth out of Oliver_ — _is it more than he can handle?_

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Honor Thy Father"**

Tommy knew a fake-drunk Oliver when he saw one.

He was as shocked as the rest of the crowd, but surely less distressed than the rest of the Queen clan at the spectacle of a drunk Ollie Queen at a dedication ceremony for his dead father. The surrounding press ate it up and so did the raised cell phones. It would be trending on the internet within the hour, surely; and be the main topic in the local news.

He had a sneaking suspicion it might have to do with what the news was calling, The Hood. Oliver's secret little doppelgänger.

He rushed after the man. "Oliver? Oliver!" he grabbed the man's shoulder, stopping him. "What the hell was that? What are you doing?"

Oliver shrugged from his grip and kept walking. "Go away, Tommy." He said tightly.

Tommy had no other choice but to follow. "No. Not until you explain what that was." They left the plaza behind.

"I don't have to answer to you," he retorted.

"Well, you sure as hell have to answer to somebody. And seeing as nobody else knows your secret, it looks like that's going to have to be me." Tommy said in kind. "Otherwise, the press back there might come in use—and then you'll have to answer to everyone!"

Oliver gave a growl of frustration and spun on the other man. "When are you going to stop threatening me with that?"

Tommy refused to give ground and step away, chest-to-chest. "Well, I would have said I'd kick your ass, but I've accepted that it's not a viable option for me anymore."

"I like that option," Oliver disagreed.

"Yeah. Not going to happen, I like my face just the way it looks, thanks." Tommy said drily. "Now—talk."

Oliver inhaled deeply, fists stuffed into his pockets. He was the one that took a step back. "I can't do what I need to do if people take me seriously."

"And what exactly is that you need to do?" Tommy asked innocently. "You haven't exactly told me." Oliver opened his mouth, but Tommy spoke the words for him, annoyed: "The less you know. Yeah, yeah. I'm getting pretty sick of this run-around of yours. If you want this—whatever it is—to go on, you're going to have to let me in."

He blew out a breath and said instead. "I can't run QC and save this city."

"Are you kidding me? Have you never read a comic before? You need to re-read-up, buddy. You could learn a little something about this whole"—he twirled his hand—" _vigilante_ thing."

"I'm not a vigilante," he hissed, shooting a inconspicuous look around. They might be outside, but right now, they were essentially alone.

"Right." Tommy snorted. "So, you didn't take care of Adam Hunt as a 'civilian' instead of turning whatever you had on him, into the police? I believe that is the very definition of vigilante."

"We are not talking about this." Oliver growled. He turned and walked away. Tommy let him go, for now.

"I'm not letting this go, Oliver!" Tommy called after him.

"I didn't expect you to," he uttered, annoyed, but he wasn't sure at who more—Tommy or himself.

 **X**

"So, what changed your mind?" Tommy asked, flopping onto the edge of Oliver's bed. "God, I haven't been in here in a while." He remarked, looking around. "It's like a clean time capsule."

"That's what happens when you die for five-years," Oliver shut and locked his door firmly; no one was home, but he didn't want to chance it.

"Well?" Tommy prompted.

"Something Thea said to me. And talking to my father," he admitted quietly, going to his locked desk drawer.

Tommy understood that; he had many a great revelation when visiting his mother's grave. When Oliver turned back to him, it was with a small, bound notebook held tightly in his hands, but he didn't move. Tommy didn't say anything this time and waited for his friend to speak.

Oliver took a deep, slightly shaky breath. "My father didn't die on the Gambit like I told the court; he made it to the raft with me and the boat's captain. There wasn't enough food and water for the three of us to survive long enough to make it land, but maybe one person could. So my father made a decision. He killed the captain, gave me this notebook, told me he failed this city and that it was up to me to save it—and then he shot himself in front of me."

"Shit, Ollie." Tommy uttered in horror, carding his fingers roughly through his hair. "I can understand you not wanting to say that in front of your mom and sister, let alone complete strangers, but," he shook his head, "Oliver, you have to know... That's crazy! For him to lay something like that on your shoulders-"

"The whole time I was there, I didn't really think about it. I just didn't want to die. But when I finally made it home—I realized that this whole time, these last five-years—were preparing me for this." He said passionately, "Because, because my father is right—this city is rotting and the decay is all the names listed in this book." He held it up.

Tommy stared at him silently, just waiting for it to sink in.

"Tommy?" Oliver asked. He shifted his weight like he wanted to step forward, but stopped himself, realizing that it was probably best to give his friend space just now. He'd been fighting this, Tommy knowing, and now he knew why. He cared what his best-friend in life thought, that's why he had kept the mantra of the-less-you-know because the more Tommy knew, the more his mission was held in the balance of Tommy's response.

"And there's no other way?" Tommy finally spoke, his voice a whisper. "You can't just give the book to the police and-"

"If they were really doing their jobs," Oliver interrupted, "This book wouldn't be filed with names. I'm not saying it's their fault, they're good men and woman, but sometimes the rules of law just don't get it done. As the Hood, I don't have that restriction." He taped his chest with the notebook.

"You mean kill." He said baldly.

"If I have to." Oliver agreed.

"Oliver!" Tommy cried desperately, standing. "This can't be-"

"It's the only way." He said firmly.

"And you won't stop? Not even if I ask?"

"I'm sorry, Tommy." Oliver replied solemnly. "Prison and death are my finish line."

Tommy suddenly spun, putting his back to Oliver and a wordless sound left his throat, like a mourning animal. His shoulders were hunched and the blond could see the slight shake of his frame. Not able to stand the distance between them when his friend was clearly in distress, Oliver put the notebook in his pocket and closed the distance. He put a warm hand on the back of his shoulder; it was covered in blood but still managed a kindness he was still surprised at.

Tommy spoke, "Somehow, you survived five-years of hell. But now you're back, safe—and you want to jump right back into the fire?"

"It's not about me, it's about this city. It's about fixing my father's mistakes." He tried to explain. "Do you wish I didn't tell you?" Oliver asked quietly.

"Yes. No. Both." Tommy admitted. "I wish that things could be back to the way that they were, before the Gambit. But if I didn't know, then you would be in this alone and that's even more frightening."

The weight on Oliver's chest lifted that he hadn't even realized was there, squeezing his heart as he waited for his friend's response. He wasn't sure he would have been able to take it if the first person who had met the new Oliver Queen, detested him.

"Y- You actually did it!" Tommy laughed incredulous.

"W-" Oliver started, before Tommy was suddenly out from under his hand.

Tommy rolled to the other side of the bed like a kid and picked up the comic that Oliver had left out on his nightstand. "You actually read up on your vigilante lore!"

"Shut up," was muttered with a tinge of embarrassment.

"No, no, it's cute." Tommy grinned at the spectacle.

Oliver glowered. "I just found it when I was going through some of my old stuff."

"Right." Tommy's tone clearly expressed his belief. "I still have all mine. I'll let you borrow some of the new ones."

"You're going to let me borrow your comics?" Oliver said in amusement. "We suddenly turn fourteen again?"

"Hey, some things you just don't grow out of, man." Tommy flopped onto his bed and started to flip the comic.

"Make yourself at home," Oliver swept his arms in friendly sarcasm.

"Thanks. You know your room was always more home than my own." He said. "Where's your lair?" Tommy suddenly wondered, looking up from the comic.

"My what?" Oliver was caught off guard.

"Lair." Tommy repeated. "Come on, I don't see you hiding your bow and arrows under your bed." He stopped and gave the blond a look at Oliver's silence. "Are you kidding me? You kept them under your bed?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "It was only for the first couple days before I could find... better storage."

"Ha!" Tommy exclaimed. "I knew it, you _do_ have some secret lair." He scooted to the edge of the bed. "Come on, what is it, like... a cave? a clock tower? some abandoned Queen owned building?"

That last one was right on the money. "I am not taking you to my... lair." He said the word like he was the rock and the word was blood.

"What? No way, man!" Tommy exclaimed, standing. "You gotta, buddy. I'm like your unofficial side-kick now. I'm your secret-keeper on this, so it's like nothing's really changed. It's gotta be one of the perks of knowing a vigilante—the lair!"

"Oh, brother." Oliver muttered as a chuckle teased the corner of his lips, running a hand over his hair. This was going to be trouble, and yet his heart felt lighter.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _What do you think of this second instalment? Hang on, let me huddle in a corner... okay, go ahead. I can take it! :)_

y


	3. Chapter 3: Lone Gunmen

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 3 - "Lone Gunmen"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy sees first-hand the trauma of Oliver putting on the Hood._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Lone Gunmen"**

"You know, I was pretty dubious about this place at first." Tommy said as he spotted Oliver's bare back as he returned to, you guessed it, the lair. "I'm mean, I was pretty spot on with the whole disused Queen warehouse and I was just talking out of my as- Jesus! Are you sewing up a bullet wound?!" He shouted, coming full circle and actually seeing what his friend was up to at his return from beating the crap out of a listed name.

"Calm down!" Oliver ordered in his Hood-voice. "It's just a graze."

"Just a gr-" he shook his head, looking a little green as he watched Oliver with his face half-turned away. But it was like a car wreck, grotesque, yet he could turn his gaze way. "You're stitching up yourself. You do that often? And how do you even know how to do that?"

"I've been lucky so far," Oliver cut the thread. "See? Nothing to it." He hopped from the table and his knees nearly went out from under him.

Tommy caught him by the arm. "I thought you said it was just a graze?!"

"It is." Oliver stumbled to the adjacent table where the used supplies were. "Poison!"

"P-!" Oliver pulled him in another direction, Tommy his main support. The brunette watched him put something gross looking in his mouth and swallow. "What was th-" Oliver's sudden dead weight dragged him down. Oliver thumped to the floor, Tommy nearly coming down on top of him. "Oliver?" he shook the man. "Oliver?!" he shouted, but he got no response. "What do I do?" he muttered. "What do I do?!"

He didn't even know if his best-friend was alive or dead.

...

It was early the next morning when Oliver opened his eyes and sat up, like he was waking from nothing more than a hangover. Tommy himself didn't look too fresh; having camped out next to Oliver all night, not sleeping, worrying his heart weak, helpless but hopeful when Oliver's chest continued to rise and fall.

"Tommy, you okay?" he croaked as he saw the state of his friend.

"Me?" Tommy gave a humourless laugh as he carded fingers through his lank hair. "I should be asking you that. You said poison and then went down. I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do. I almost cracked and gave in five-hundred times to calling an ambulance or _somebody._ Are _you_ okay?" he quickly scrambled to his feet and helped pull Oliver to his own.

"Feeling great." He cleared his throat and checked his watch. "We got some time." He pulled out the chair at his makeshift computer bay and sat heavily. "Let's find out who this bastard is that almost killed me."

"Just like that, right back into it?" Tommy sat heavily in a spare chair next to him. "Like you really almost just didn't die? Shouldn't you get checked out at the hospital?"

"And say what?" Oliver said, his attention focused on the screen. "It's fine, I took some medicine."

"That stuff you swallowed before you passed out?" Tommy asked.

Oliver nodded. "It comes in pretty handy."

"Not too handy," Tommy hoped. "A very rare occurrence is more than I'm comfortable with to need that stuff already."

 **X**

"What do you think?" Oliver asked, his arms wide.

"Uh," Tommy said unintelligibly, looking around the disused foundry.

"For a nightclub," he explained.

"Are we having a mid-life crisis, buddy?" Tommy asked with concern. "Is this because of what I told you before about a certain lawyer after that thing?" he shot a glance at Diggle.

"No." Oliver shot him a glower. "It was weird and awkward and hurt, I'll admit, but I told you already. It's fine."

Tommy still didn't look sure. It was after Oliver's near-death by poison-bullet that Tommy, exhausted and not thinking straight, decided to confess his own heavy secret to the archer about his feelings for Laurel and what happened between them when Oliver had been presumed dead. The blond's reaction was more tame than he was expecting, but he was still convinced it was because the poison-hangover and not his friend's true feelings on the matter.

"So...?" Tommy wondered next. "You hip-check managing QC so you can, what? run a night club?" Oliver nodded. Tommy pointed. "Mid-life crisis!" he declared.

"Cut that out." Oliver gave him a playful shove. "I'm serious."

"You're serious." Tommy repeated. "You're going to run a nightclub. What exactly do you know about running a nightclub?"

Oliver's eyes flickered upwards briefly in thought. "Not a damn thing. But, I mean, it can't be that hard, right? Alcohol and music," he shrugged, "Easy."

Tommy shook his head and addressed his friend's bodyguard (which was ironic), "You're a sane man, right, Diggle? Can you please talk some sense into my man?"

"It's okay, Diggle." Oliver said. "I want your honest opinion."

Diggle licked his lips. "Alright, then. This is the Glades, your rich friends aren't going to come here."

"I'm Oliver Queen. People will stand in the street for three hours, just so they can tweet about it. And when they do get in, they won't be leaving with full pockets."

"Money that won't be going into anyone's pockets but your own."

"Gentrification-" he started reasonably.

"Wondered when we'd get to that." He commented drily. "The white knight swooping in to save the disenfranchised—all by his lonesome without anyone's help."

"Not alone," Oliver corrected. "I got Tommy." He threw a thumb at his friend.

"Thanks," Tommy said in sarcasm. "That's what I'm here for—moral support." Diggle made a sound of amusement at that, but he backed off. "Well, you were no help." Tommy told Diggle. He turned to Oliver, "Alright, if you're going to go through with this, then what's more important than scoping out your future competition. Max Fuller just open some sleazy place-"

"No, Tommy. No way. If he sees me, he'll kill me. I slept with his fiancée," Oliver tried to divert. "At the wedding reception."

But Tommy was having none of it. "It'll be fine. Who holds a grudge that long anyways? It's not like they got married." He clapped his hands and grinned. "We are going out tonight and drinks are not optional, my friend!"

...

"You pulled your punches." Tommy complained, gladly taking the bag of ice cubes Diggle dropped at the table. He did not need a swollen face. "I can tell because my face hurts."

"You're the one who jumped in-between." Oliver reminded him. "And how would it look if I took out all three of them without breaking a sweat?"

"Yeah, yeah. My face still doesn't agree." Tommy said. "And what about the other thing...s?"

"You mean Thea and Laurel?" Oliver said plainly. Tommy gave a helpless shrug. "It's... difficult."

"That's just another none answer for complicated."

"It _is_ complicated." Oliver retorted.

"Yeah," he groaned. "Doesn't mean it's not annoying every time you say it. You're also not helping your situation with this pretend playboy crap. You can't preach to Thea about how she's acting when we were even worse at her age, and how you're pretending to be now. It's very hypercritical. And Laurel... that's like a minefield where you're concerned; step carefully 'cause unlike me, she could probably kick your ass."

Oliver gave him a faint smile at that when his cell rang and he answered it in Russian.

Tommy raised a brow; this wasn't the first time his friend had spoken Russian either. "Did a Rosetta Stone wash up on that island of yours, or what?"

"Something like that. I have to take this."

"Go right ahead." Tommy waved a hand. "Don't mind me. It's not like I speak Russian."

Oliver flashed him a complicated look and went back to his phone conversation. When Oliver finally hung up from his brisk conversation, or at least it sounded that way to Tommy in Russian, he had on a look the brunette was coming to recognizes as his Hood-look.

"Duty calls, huh?" Oliver nodded. "Want me to distract your shadow so you can make a break for it? Sidekick's gotta earn his keep," he flashed Oliver a grin and slid from the booth. "Don't get shot again, huh?" he murmured quietly, knocking on the table before he joined the Diggles.

 **X**

"What'd you bring him here for?!" Tommy wondered with panic as Oliver hefted a disoriented, senseless Diggle onto the table. He'd been over at Laurel's with a gift of Chinese food, when he'd gotten a text from Oliver; so he cut his night short and rushed over to the lair. But he had no idea exactly what he was supposed to be doing now that he was actually here. "Why didn't you take him to a hospital?"

"Deadshot hit him." Oliver quickly opened his secret Chinese crate and pulled out the bag of his special medicine. He started to grind and mix it up. "The poison had a direct line to his bloodstream. There wasn't time to get him to the hospital; he'll die before they could fix it."

Tommy tentatively approached. There was definitely a lot of blood that should be on the inside instead of out; he didn't have to be a doctor to know that. Was he going to bleed out before the poison killed him. Pressure, right? Isn't that what they say? He quickly pulled off his sweater and bunched it up. "Oh, god." He cringed as he pressed it down and Diggle let out a pained groan.

The Oliver was on the other side of the table, hand at the nape of Diggle's head, cup of herb mixture at his lips. Once he managed to get Diggle to finish it off, he quickly grabbed his first aid supplies.

"Let me see," he said.

Tommy backed off, bloodied sweater in his bloody hands. He watched as Oliver cleaned, then patched the bodyguard up.

"How long is he going to be out?" Tommy asked, sitting heavily in a chair, staring. Watching Oliver after the fact on his own wound was one thing, but this was completely another. His hands were covered in someone else's blood—literally.

"Shouldn't be lo-"

"Oh, shit." Tommy uttered as Diggle came-to.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

After Oliver had almost died for the poison-bullet, the dark-haired man, in his great wisdom, exhausted and not in a clear mind, had decided it was a great idea to get some heavy things off his chest—that being Laurel. Oliver's reaction was more tame than Tommy had expected, but that could also have been because he had been after-poison-hungover. So when Oliver had invited him along for this ride, he was relieved at Diggle's presence. "Not to sound judgey... but I don't want to be included in your sex dungeon, thank you very much."

Diggle made a chuff of mild amusement from near the door.

Oliver glared. "A night club, Tommy."

"You hip-checked running QC so you could own a night club?" he asked. Oliver made an impatient hand gesture at him. "Alright," he rolled his eyes. "Omitting several things," Tommy told him pointedly, aware of Diggle's presence, "What the hell do you know about running a club?"

"Not a damn thing." Oliver chuckled. "But I know very well how to participate at a night club. It can't be that much hard or different."

Tommy shook his head in good humour.

y


	4. Chapter 4: An Innocent Man

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 4 - "An Innocent Man"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy accepts that maybe there are people better suited to help Oliver in his crusade than he is._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "An Innocent Man"**

"Oliver." Diggle sat up with a grunt of pain, instantly taking to his feet, only to stumble from the effects of being poisoned.

"Easy!" Oliver surged forward and put a steadying hand on him. "You were poisoned."

"You're the vigilante." Diggle pushed him away. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed, both at the pain and at the man. Tommy stood in automatic response. If there was going to be a fight, he had no doubt that Oliver would be able to subdue the angry, injured man. "Merlyn?!" he was incredulous.

"Yo?" Tommy gave an awkward bloody-handed wave.

Oliver wasn't to be distracted, "I could have taken you anywhere-"

"Like the hospital." Tommy threw in again.

Oliver cut a glare at him, before turning his attention back onto the angry man. "But I took you here."

"Why?" Diggle demanded.

Tommy pointed and nodded his own agreement.

"Other than the fact that you would be dead right now if I had taken you to the hospital..." Oliver gave a glance to his friend, "I want you to join me."

Tommy looked at him in shock—and jealously, too.

"You're insane!" Diggle said. "You really did lose your mind on that island."

"On the contrary, I found other things, too. Like clarity." Oliver told him. "This city is slowly dying. Ruled by the criminal elite. Poisoned by the same men and women who could save it, but instead are draining it for their own greed and power. We can stop them and save this city. You're Special Forces out of Kandahar. It's perfect. A fellow soldier-"

"You're no soldier!" Diggle straightened with strength. "You're a criminal, a murderer. And you," he turned his gaze to a surprised Tommy, "Are stupider than you look." He turned his back to them and found his exit.

Tommy looked back and forth between Oliver and where Diggle had disappeared. He held out an arm, "You're just going to let him go? He's going to go to the police, Oliver!"

Oliver shook his head. "He's not." He turned his attention to cleaning up the first aid. "You might want to clean up," he pointed in the direction of the deep plastic sink.

Tommy did. "He's knows you're the Hood. He knows where the lair is." Tommy dried his hands on a rag. "Diggle seems like a very straight-lined man. What makes you sure that he won't go to the cops? He'll be Lance's best-friend."

Oliver looked up, stared him in the eye, and said: "I have hope he'll do the right thing."

"I hope to hell you're right because I am definitely way too pretty to go to prison and I don't want to be anyone's bitch. I'm just not into that,"

 **X**

"Mm-hmm." Tommy hummed.

" _Are you sleeping_?" Oliver wondered over the phone. Tommy could hear the crackle and knew his friend was on his bike.

"Trying to, what with assassination attempt on Walter, and Diggle almost dying; it's been a long night. And let's not forget Diggle knowing your night identity—oh, and our impending doom. I want to take a good mugshot."

" _I take a good mugshot."_

"Is that why you get arrested so much?" he snarked. "And you, you're driving and on the phone—doubling down on that death wish?"

"It's hand's-free." Oliver said. "And have you been listening to what I've been saying?"

"On all points, yes, Oliver, I have. You've tagged another guy on your list and you want to involve Laurel. I don't think that's such a good idea. And with Diggle... it's like an axe hanging over our heads, waiting to swing. Are you sure this is what you want to do with your last moments of freedom?"

" _I want to save this guy's life and you want to sleep; I think we have different priorities._ "

"It's not like I'm equipped to help this guy," he retorted, feeling a twinge in his chest at another reminder of how useless he was in the encompassing Hood proclivities.

" _But Laurel is_ ," Oliver reasoned. " _This is right up in her wheel-house and she could be this guy's only chance. I'll go to her as the Hood. If she agrees, then she can work the law and I can work on crossing a name off."_

Tommy sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't like dragging Laurel into this, but you're right... she's the best woman for the job. And what are you going to do about Diggle?"

 _"Give him more time."_

"Heh. You better not take too much." Tommy told him. "If you're serious about recruiting Diggle, and let's be honest—you need him—you've got to get at him during that sweet-time. You gave him the truth, made him the offer, you let him walk. Now it's time to get him. He's had time. He's obviously conflicted. He hasn't called the cops, but he quit working for you. So you find him, you don't sugar-coat—you tell him the truth, Oliver. Tell him... Tell him what you told me." He finished softly.

Oliver was quiet for a moment. " _Where did that come from_?"

Tommy gave a short, self-deprecating chuckle. "Unlike you, I've actually got my degrees. They've done shit for so me far but get dad off my back. But who knows... they might actually come in handy someday."

" _I'm sure they will_."

"So, this new _body man_ you've got-"

" _Sweet dreams, Tommy_." Oliver hung up mildly.

Tommy sighed, his arm dropping back to the bed at his side with his cell. He hoped they were right about Diggle, otherwise it was game over.

 **X**

"Here for the body guard position?" Oliver questioned at the sight of Diggle at the window. "There's an opening."

"Hey!" Tommy crossed his arms over his chest and parked his hip against the couch arm. "You're dumber than you look, too, it would appear."

"You got me, Meryln," Diggle said dryly. "We all have our faults." He nodded his head at the blond, "Oliver here can be pretty convincing when he's being himself and not playing the shallow playboy."

"Hey, you did it, buddy!" Tommy smacked Oliver's chest with the back of his hand. "See what happens when you take my advice?" He winked. "You give an impassioned speech and no one gets arrested."

"I figured he could use someone to watch his back that actually knows what he's doing," Diggle said. "The last thing I need on my hands is two dead rich boys."

"Touché,"

"I'm not looking for anybody to save me." Oliver told him.

"Maybe not, but if you hope to do this long enough to actually make a difference, you need someone to watch you back out there."

"So," Tommy questioned for clarities sake, "Is he your sidekick now and I'm downgraded to the side-sidekick?"

"If I'm doing this, it's not as a sidekick." Diggle laid out a condition. "It's gonna be as your partner."

"So I'm back to being the sidekick? Why can't I be a partner, too?"

"Because you're never going into the field with me, even if you could fight. It's too big of a risk." Oliver told him simply enough.

"So what you're really saying is that Diggle's expendable." Tommy raised a brow.

Oliver and Diggle shared a silent look of communication, on the same page on this account instantly.

Tommy looked between them. "I'm already being fazed out by the new kid." He complained.

"You're a civilian, Tommy. The lair is as far as you go."

Tommy heaved a sigh. "I guess being your moral compass will have to be enough. Well," he clapped his hands and straightened. "I think we'll make a great team; got all areas covered, don't we?"

"Cheerleader would be a better description," Diggle snarked.

Before Tommy could retort there was a commotion out in the entry hall. The three men turned to the door just as Quentin Lance came through into the sitting room and snapped a pair of cuffs on Oliver.

Definitely not the best start to the addition of a third member to Team Hood.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

"So he hasn't called the cops, but he quit as your security." Tommy summarized. "And now you have a guy who calls himself your 'body man'?"

"Yeah." Oliver nodded. "What am I-"

"So, what the hell are you still doing here?" Tommy asked bluntly. "You need to go get that angry man back. I was surprised and jealous when you suddenly said that you wanted Diggle to join this... crusade of your. But I realized that I'm probably not much help to you _out there,_ " he waved his hand away from them in implication. "You need someone like Diggle out there, with you. Because this whole thing, no matter how kick-ass you are, Oliver, you can't do it alone. So, yeah, you have to go and convince that guy that he's stupid and not smart and get rid of your body man. Please."

"He's rather easy to ditch," Oliver agreed. "It's not as fun."

…

"Are you sure you want to drag her into the world of the Hood? Once you do that, there's no going back."

"I need- well, the Hood, needs her help. I don't think that /

x

y


	5. Chapter 5: Damaged

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 5 - "Damaged"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy is both fearful and relieved at Oliver's arrest_ — _and it makes him feel guilty. He tries to make up for it._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Damaged"**

"A party—prison-themed." Tommy repeated once he shut and locked Oliver's bedroom door, giving the three men privacy. "Is it safe to assume that you're playing the chameleon again. Or, and I'm taking liberties with it, but 'We need to appear normal; getting arrested and accused of murder and vigilantism is just the icing for Ollie Queen, let's throw a party!' Is that about the sum of it?"

Oliver was quiet for a brief moment, as if he knew something the others didn't, dressed in his blue prison coveralls. "Yes."

"How are you not worried about this?!" Tommy cried out in frustration.

"It's all part of the plan."

Tommy felt like he was going red in the face. "All part of th-" Diggle held out his hand and silenced the frustrated man.

"Oliver, they caught you on video at the Exchange Building. Are you telling me that you planned that during an assassination attempt?" Diggle questioned.

He nodded. "I knew the camera was there. And I knew that when they reviewed the tapes, they'd eventually find it and arrest me."

"You been preparing for this since the beginning." Diggle was impressed. "You wanted to get arrested." Was the realization.

"I return to Starling City and the vigilante appears a few days later." Oliver reasoned, sitting at his computer desk. "Lance would be stupid to overlook that and I think we've established that he's not."

"And did any of this plan include rotting in prison for the rest of your life?" Tommy demanded, unable to keep quiet anymore. "Because that's what's going to happen. It's a miracle you're not in jail right now instead of throwing a party, and would be if it weren't for Laurel. Don't you care? You're family's freaking, have you even thought about them? What about-" he stopped the thought there.

"The mission comes first." Oliver stated, his expression steeled against the loaded atmosphere between he and his best-friend. He turned his gaze to his computer, "That's were this guy comes in." He jerked his head at Diggle and the bodyguard came around the desk to look at the screen. "Lueo Mueller. German arms dealer. Suspected in the theft of 100 M2-49 Squad Automatic Weapons. Last night he arrived in Starling to sell the guns."

Diggle gave his head a shake of confusion as he straightened. "Don't you imagine you're in enough trouble without you going after this guy?"

"And can you imagine what would happen if a gang got military hardware?" Oliver returned. "I imagine our City's streets turning into a war zone."

"But you're under arrest, Oliver!" was Diggle's reasonable rejoinder. "Which means you can't go after this guy."

"Look, I just want you to shadow Mueller. Track his movements. I want to know when the buy is happening."

"Okay." He sighed. "And how am I supposed to track him?"

Oliver smirked. "Haven't you heard? We billionaire vigilantes love our toys. Everything you need is at the lair."

Diggle nodded and left, clapping Tommy on the shoulder as he passed.

Silence prevailed between the friends. Tommy stared at Oliver for a moment, his heart racing with several conflicting emotions, before he turned to take his own leave.

"You'll be here, won't you, Tommy?"

"Sure," he retorted. "What would it look like if Ollie Queen's best-friend didn't show at his prison-break bash?" and he left, maybe shutting the door louder than was strictly necessary.

 **X**

"If this is what you think prison is like, you're in for a rude awakening." Diggle snorted as Tommy closed the bedroom door.

He'd come, of course he had. His emotions had been high and conflicted and he'd let them get a hold of him in the moment. But after gaining some distance Tommy realized that while he would love it if Oliver would stop with all this Hood-business, he'd rather have his friend out and on the night streets than locked up in jail.

"I'm under no illusion, trust me." Oliver took the offered phone. "Mueller's car has been parking in the warehouse district for the last 45 minutes?"

"Yeah. And it's a good place for an arms deal to go down." Diggle agreed.

"Okay." Oliver exhaled and handed the cell back. "Since it appears like this is going down tonight...it looks like the Hood is going to have to make an appearance."

"What?" Tommy interrupted. "Oliver, you can't leave the house. You can't even go for a swim without SWAT kicking down the doors."

"It doesn't have to be _me_ in the Hood." He looked pointedly at Diggle.

Diggle didn't look happy. "That was why you threw this whole party? Just a charade; a hundred witnesses placing you here while I'm across town as the vigilante. This was your great plan from the start?" he demanded.

Oliver grimaced. "I wasn't planning for the deal to go down tonight. I thought just seeing the Hood would have been enough. But we can't let these guns get onto the street."

"So drop a dime to the cops!" Diggle threw out a hand. "Let them take care of it. It's their job!"

But Oliver shook his head. "It has to be the Hood or all of this was just a big screw-up and I really will go to prison."

Diggle looked about ready to walk out when Tommy blurted: "I'll do it!"

That stopped the pair from further argument.

"What?" Oliver repeated. "You'll do it?" was asked in confusion.

Tommy nodded. "I'll go." He squared his shoulders. "I'll go as the Hood."

"Have you finally lost it, Merlyn?" Diggle asked.

"I'm serious!" he defended. "It's just an act, right? I starred in several productions during high school and got rave reviews. Just give me a costume," he mimed a hood, "And some props," he mimed shooting an arrow from a bow, "And I'm good to go."

Oliver stared at him for a moment, before he tossed something at Tommy.

"Ow!" Tommy exclaimed, rubbing at his chin. "What the hell was that for?"

Oliver said critically, "You couldn't even deflect a rubber band ball. How exactly do you expect to dodge bullets?"

"I wasn't ready!" he dropped his hand.

"Exactly." Oliver wasn't moved by his protestation. "You're not ready. And even if you were, the answer would still be the same. You're not going into the field, Tommy—ever. And that's final."

"Wow." Tommy replied sarcastically. "Our new team is doing great." But he fell silent after that.

Oliver looked at him a moment longer, before he turned his attention back to Diggle.

"I didn't join your crusade expecting it to be risk-free, Oliver." Diggle told him. "But I didn't expect you to keep lying to me either. I'm the one guy that you can't, not if we all want to survive this."

"Diggle, it was never my intention for it to go down like this." Oliver swore.

"Yeah." He rubbed a hand over his head. "I'm realizing that."

"So... am I going to prison?"

Diggle sighed and shook his head. "No, man. Just like I said; I got your back."

 **X**

Tommy found Oliver in the privacy of the reading room just as he hung up his cell. "Everything alright?"

Oliver nodded, putting the cell in his costume pocket. "That was Diggle. He managed to disrupt the buy. He was spotted, just like planed. And managed to get away without any upsets."

Tommy nodded, leaning his hands on the back of the comfy green couch. "That's good." He observed his friend, "So, why are you tetchy?"

Oliver looked over at him. "I'm not tetchy."

"Right. 'Cause you're not thinking that it should have been you out there?"

"Of course I wish I could have been out there instead." Oliver agreed. "It's me that's supposed to be in the Hood. Me in the line of fire. Diggle didn't-"

"This is what Diggle signed up for." Tommy interrupted. "Did you not listen to his an hour ago?" he straightened and walked around the couch. "This was your plan. It's a good one, in that hanging-onto-the-precipice kind of way. Would have been even better if you'd filled Dig and I on a few things first, but beggars can't be choosers. So, suck it up," he clapped him affably on the shoulder, "You're on the bench for a bit."

Oliver gave a heavy exhale. "It's sucks being benched!" he groaned.

Tommy gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Join the club, buddy. I'm just the bench warmer."

"Tommy-" he started.

Tommy just shook his head. " _Another_ note of interest... I ran into Laurel as she was leaving. Everything's okay, right? With the case... and in general?" he sat on the couch.

"The case is fine." He sat in the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, rubbing briefly at his forehead with the heals of his hands before he rose his head and looked at his best-friend. "Something... happened."

Tommy's throat tightened a little. "Yeah? Like what."

"I... showed her my scars. And we-we kissed."

Tommy was quiet as those same feelings punctured his chest as when Oliver had asked Diggle to join the Hood Team; jealousy, anger, denial, and perhaps acceptance of the inevitable. This was one messed up love triangle they found themselves in and Tommy knew he was losing—in both cases.

"Tommy?"

"Is that all?" he wondered, and Oliver shook her head.

"She caught me out on a lie from the polygraph—accused me of being the Hood. I lied. Sold her some bullshit. She was too close to the truth. I got scared," he admitted.

"I think..." Tommy finally spoke. "You did the right thing. After what happened at Iron Heights, she wasn't ready to hear the truth. It's too soon. After everything... she's just not ready, Oliver. At least for _you_ to be the Hood. Maybe you and him separately. But not together."

"I know." Oliver sighed and slumped back against the couch. "She was right when she said nothing could happen between us. I didn't realize that there was actually such a thing as 'too much history'. But as long as there's need of the Hood, nothing could happen, with her or anyone else."

"Oliver-" Tommy started in protest when a knock at the door interrupted him.

"Mr. Queen? Can I get you any refreshments from the bar?"

"No thanks." Oliver called, standing. "I was coming back out now anyway."

Tommy jumped to his feet then dove for cover as the door was kicked in and a guy in a waiter's outfit burst through the door with a gun. Oliver fought the guy and Tommy just tried to stay out of the way, before three shots from Lance's service weapon decided the winner.

 **X**

"So, you're a free man." Tommy said after Lance grudgingly took away the ankle monitor. "What's the plan?"

"Mueller." Oliver said lowly with his Hood-face. "He's gonna try and sell those weapons again. This time, I'm going to stop him."

"I didn't expect anything else." This was definitely much better than his best-friend rotting in prison.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

y


	6. Chapter 6: Legacies

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 6 - "Legacies"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy makes a move in his personal life, while encouraging Oliver to do the same in his Hood life._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Legacies"**

Diggle grunted as Oliver pulled back.

"Anchor your rear hand, Diggle. Variable acceleration. Fighters work at the same pace. You switch it up, throw your opponent off his game." Oliver instructed.

Tommy watched happily at a safe distance in the lair, sitting on a stool with a bag of popcorn. "This is better than paper-view. Very free and entertaining. Though definitely one-sided."

Diggle turned to him. "Why don't you step-up, Merlyn? Let's see what you can do."

"No, thanks!" Tommy declined. "I learned my lesson with that rubber band ball to the face, thank you very much. We agreed that I would never be going out into the field with you guys even if I could fight, so why get the crap kicked out of me? Give me an even, general fist-fight and I'm your man, otherwise... I direct you towards my ninja friend here."

Oliver gave Diggle a whack with the short stick. "Don't get distracted." Diggle sent a glare at the lounging-man but put his attention back onto the blond as they circled.

Tommy grinned. "If this is the price I pay," he said solemnly. "I believe that I have comes to terms with it." He tossed back a handful of popcorn, munching away.

"Where'd you learn to fight like this?" Diggle asked as he advanced, but Oliver easily blocked his attacked. "Definitely not on a deserted island."

"His name was Yao Fei." Oliver threw in several strikes.

"He give you those scars?"

"Only one." He came at the man, strikes flashing. Diggle didn't have time to think, just respond, reflex in defence. Tommy cracked a un-popped kernel and Diggle flinched at the unexpected sound and Oliver took advantage of the opening and struck Diggle at the small of his back, making the man arch.

"Don't you have somewhere else you have you to be?" Diggle growled at Tommy, rubbing his back. "Or did no one teach you how to chew with your mouth closed?"

"I _do_ have a few things planned for later, but I'm free until then." Tommy informed him. "And I chew with my mouth closed in the right company. As well," he held up a greasy finger in point, "As the master said: be aware of your surroundings, but do not let them become distractions."

Diggle took a step towards him. Tommy quickly tossed the microwave bag and held up his hands. "I was done with it anyways; I was at the kernels."

"That's enough for now," Oliver said, taking their sparring weapons and putting them away. He grabbed a towel to wipe away sweat and approached the computers. "Tonight we're going after him." He nodded at the screen as Diggle and Tommy joined him. "Scott Morgan runs Water & Power in the Glades. Jacks up the prices when people can't pay, shuts them down even in the dead of winter."

"If he jacks up the price," Tommy asked, "How exactly does he expect them to pay?"

"He makes desperate people, especially with winter only a month away." Diggle said. "Like these guys," he brought some articles onto the screen. "These guys started in Keystone three years ago. Began moving West, hitting banks along the way. This morning they hit Starling City Trust. Shot an off-duty cop. He's in coma. Doctors say it's a coin-toss whether he'll make it."

"If he's a cop, SCPD will be all over it." Oliver commented.

"They're overwhelmed and under funded." Diggle continued. "These guys don't hit one time, they hit two, three per-city. Right now, they're planning another job."

Oliver looked over at him. "You have the wrong impression about what I do." He tossed the towel and took his shirt from back one of the chairs at another table.

"Take out bad guys with bow and arrows." Diggle followed him directionally. "Am I wrong?"

"Yes." He turned back to them, finishing buttoning his shirt.

"Come on, Oliver." Tommy spoke up, following and agreeing with what Diggle was putting down. "You c-"

"I don't fight street crime." Oliver interrupted succulently. "That's a symptom of this city. I'm trying to cure the disease."

Diggle scoffed, thick arms crossed over his chest. "CEOs and crooked entrepreneurs. I get it. I'm just saying maybe you can make a difference if you look beyond the scope of those pages." He said more gently, "I'm sure your dad won't mind."

"You don't get it." Oliver denied him. "My father died so I could live. Live to make a difference fixing the city that he and the people in this book ruined. Every name I cross off this list honours that sacrifice."

"There's more than one way to save this city." Diggle insisted.

"Not for me. Crime happens in this city every day. What do you want me to do? Stop it all?"

"It sounds like you have a narrow definition of being a hero." Diggle left with that.

"I'm not a hero." Oliver said quietly to himself, but Tommy heard anyway.

"Is that what you really think?" Tommy asked. "That the people that you've helped have just been a consequence of you inking-out names on that list? Diggle's right... with your skill, drive, and belief you can do so much more to help Starling City."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Oliver turn his attention to the equipment, the dismissal clear.

"Alright. Just know," Tommy told him, "Sometimes the only way to battle the disease is to first fight the symptoms."

 **X**

That little-something Tommy had to do—which was finally take Laurel out on a datethat he swore back at the courthouse—was a bust. She completely shut him down. So, he went in search of his friend. They nearly walked into each other in the Queen Mansion entrance hall.

"Hey, just the man I was looking for!" Tommy grinned. "I just got t-"

"Sorry, Tommy." Oliver said hurriedly. "Diggle just called, I gotta go."

"Oh. Is it...?" Oliver nodded. "Do you need help?"

"No. We got this. Talk to you later?" He clapped the dark-haired scion on the shoulder and slipped out the door.

"You never take me anywhere!" he called after the man; only half-joking. He sighed, about to make his own leave, when movement out of the corner of his eye had him turning back. "Hey, Speedy." Tommy smiled. "You look... grumpy."

"Brunch." Thea said. "With Carter Bowen. And his mother."

"Ooh." Tommy winced in sympathy. "That guy is... the worst." He omitted the foul language.

"Yeah."

"No wonder Oliver ran outta here," he joked.

"And he didn't take me with him," she complained.

"Looks like he ditched us both."

"Thea?" they heard Moira call from the dinning room.

Thea groaned. "I better get back. Or... take me with you?" she pleaded.

Tommy was thoughtful for a moment. "You got your learner's permit, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You wanna ditch this brunch?" he asked mischievously. "Got a new sports car, I'll let you drive her for some advice."

"Really?" she started to squeal excitedly like only a teenage girl could.

"As long as you don't crash it," he said. "And we keep my dubious influence this once a secret between us."

"Yes, agreed. Deal." She nodded rapidly. "Now, let's go before mom sends out a search party."

Chuckling, he put an arm around her shoulders and stole her out of brunch.

 **X**

"Is the grumpies contagious in the Queen Clan, or what?" Tommy mused.

" _I am not grumpy."_ Oliver stated.

Tommy chuckled. "I don't even have to see your face, buddy. Diggle totally got one over on you, and you're pissed."

" _I am not pissed_." Oliver corrected. " _I'm_..."

"Annoyed. He lured you to the hospital under false pretences; plopped you unprepared into a situation; played on that golden-heart of yours—and convinced you to alter your crusade. _You_ are _grumpy. I_ am proud of you. And _impressed_ with Diggle." Tommy told him. "If I got him a gift basket or something, do you think he'd punch me?"

" _Yes_."

"Do _you_ want to punch me right now?" Tommy wondered in amusement.

" _The feeling is easing_." Oliver joked.

Tommy chuckled. "I see your funny bone is intact, albeit with slightly more violent tendencies."

" _Where are you?"_ Oliver changed the subject. " _Your voice sounds all... Echo-y."_

"In the bathroom."

" _You answered the phone while in the bathroom, Tommy_?" His tone was not approving.

"Hey, it's not like I was going when I answered." He protested. "I finished my pee-break and was about to exit when you called. It's just easier to talk in here, is all, what with the conversation content."

 _"Where are you, anyway_?"

"This is my, something-later, take three." Tommy informed him. "I'm at CNRI." Silence greeted him on the other end and he knew better than that they had been disconnected. "I'm backing Laurel's plans to hold a fundraiser to get more funds after a big sponsor pulled their funding. I was talking to Joanne and she mentioned it, so I offered. Ollie?"

" _Okay_." Oliver said.

"Oliver?" he repeated.

" _Tell me when and all the Queens will be in attendance with our check books_." He said. " _I gotta go. It's time to stop these guys_."

"Alright." He sighed and slipped his cell back into his pocket and left the bathroom to continue his discussion with Laurel about the cake.

It would never not be complicated between the three of them where Laurel was concerned. He'd told Oliver the truth about his feelings and intentions towards the lawyer. Oliver had declared his own intentions—which was that there could and would not be any. So Tommy was going to take his shot; Thea's advice seemed to be working thus far.

 **X**

"Really?" Tommy was surprised. "We actually went to school with this guy?"

"Right before he dropped out." Oliver said. "I don't think we would have even found out that, had he not lost his temper and punched that security guard."

"How did you even find this guy?" he asked. "I thought you said he was off the grid."

"He was," Diggle nodded. "But we had a little help tracking the electronic trail."

"Aw, man! You actually got to meet her? This mysterious blond IT girl from QC's basement." Tommy bemoaned. "You really do never take me anywhere." He accused Oliver.

"Careful, Merlyn, or you're going to start to sound like an neglected girlfriend." Diggle teased.

"She doesn't work in the basement." Oliver said dryly.

"No?" Tommy raised a brow.

"No," Oliver replied. "She has a corner cubicle in the IT department. She's highly recommended by Walter."

"She has Walter's approval? Now I really need to meet her! She's got the British Seal of Approval, it doesn't get any more real than that."

Oliver sighed. "I think it would be a little weird if I went and introduced you."

"No weirder than you bring a shot-up laptop to her. Or you and Diggle going to her to 'look up an old friend' because you don't know how to work Facebook." Tommy declared. "So, next time you going on one of your information-gathering fieldtrips, you're taking me."

"Recon." Diggle said.

"Whatever, they mean the same thing. I have spoken," Tommy pointed, "It will happen! I have dragged the location of the lair, among other things, out of you, Oliver. Do not think I will not make this happen."

 **X**

The fundraiser had been going well. The place was filled with folk with ready check books, there was a bar, carrot cake, all three Queens present, Laurel on his arm. Until Oliver and Diggle had to leave as another bank robbery was in progress and the Hood was finally about to put a stop to The Royal Flush Gang; Carter Bowen stole Laurel; and Thea came upon him in his sulking having partaken in the alcohol.

"She's never gonna feel the same way," Thea told him baldly with a slightly slurring voice. "She still loves Oliver. Even after all the crap he put her through, she still can't help but love him. It's his super power. No matter what, you find a way."

 _Don't I know it,_ he wanted to say, but said instead: "Have you been drinking, Thea? I thought that we'd agreed you'd call me before you did something stupid?"

"Then _you_ should have called _me_." Thea returned in typical drunk belligerence.

"What are you talking about?"

Thea gave a sarcastic laugh. "That advice you asked about? I shoulda known it was about Laurel. It's always Laurel-this, Laurel-that with you and Ollie. But what about me?" she wavered. "What's so great about her? I could be a lawyer if I wanted."

"I know you could," Tommy soothed, putting a steadying hand on her arm. "You could be anything if you wanted."

"Stop babying me!" she growled, jerking her arm out from under his hand. "I'm not a baby anymore!" and she stumbled back into a waiter, the tray of drinks he'd been carrying smashing to the floor.

"Hey!" Tommy quickly lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Thea's middle, catching her before she fell. "Okay? Thea! Okay?" He demanded, their faces close. Thea nodded, but then her big eyes suddenly welled with tears. "It's okay. Come on, let's get some air, okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled and let him lead her out the side door. "I think I'm going to be sick."

And he soon found himself in charge of hair-duty as Thea puked next to a dumpster.

"Better?" he asked when she finally straightened with a groan.

"Yes and no." She admitted, shivering.

"Here." He shed his suit jacket and hung it around her narrow shoulders.

"Thanks," she huddled into the warm material. "Tommy," she started. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause a scene or those things I said. Please don't hate me?"

"I could never hate you, Speedy. Never." Tommy promised. "Come on," he lead her towards his convertible. "I'll drive you home and you can sleep this off."

"No, no. Tommy." She protested, even as he shut her door. "You should go back inside. I'll just take a cab or something."

"No way!" Tommy shook his head. "I'm not letting you alone in a cab at this time of night, in the state you're in."

"Okay," she finally agreed. "But don't drive too fast please, unless you want me to hurl in your car."

He chucked and kissed the top of her head. "Thanks for the warning." He started for the driver's side when Laurel found them.

"Tommy?" Laurel called. "Is Thea alright?"

Tommy paused and turned to her. "Yeah, Thea's just not feeling well. Must have been some bad crab cakes or something."

Laurel raised a brow knowingly. "Are you sure it wasn't something she drank?"

"Don't worry. I got this." Tommy answered. "Go back inside, Laurel. You don't have to worry about me. This is your fundraiser. Go have fun. It looked like you were having a nice do-si-do with the good doctor."

"Tommy," she sighed. "Don't make it out to be something it's not. You know as well as I do that Dr. Carter Bowen is a gigantic ass. I danced with him because he wrote a big check to CNRI. How could you think it was anything else?"

Tommy sighed himself. "Laurel, everything with you is never straight-forward. It always comes out mixed up."

"You take care of Thea, and I'll go back inside." Laurel said. "But know one thing, Tommy Merlyn—I owe you a dance, you earned it." And she put a hand on his chest, leaned forward and kissed his cheek before she went back inside.

So maybe the night hadn't ended as bad as he thought; Oliver broadened his Hood horizons and maybe this thing with Laurel wasn't so hopeless.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

y


	7. Chapter 7: Muse of Fire

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 7 - "Muse of Fire"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _After finally getting a date with Laurel, has Tommy knocked the first domino in his and Oliver's friendship?_

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Muse of Fire"**

Tommy had just managed to get Laurel to agree to go on a real first-date with him when he got the text from Diggle. He was on his way to Starling General when he got another text from the man and he quickly switched directions, heading to the Glades and the Hood's lair in the bowels of Queen Industries Steel Factory soon to be Oliver's nightclub.

"Oliver?" Tommy came down the stairs and around a pillar, to find Oliver at the computer bank with Diggle standing near in disapproval. "I just heard about your mom. Is she okay?"

"She at the hospital; concussion, some bruises—they're releasing her tonight." Oliver said.

Tommy stared at him. "And you are here and not at the hospital because...?"

"I talked to Det. Lance at the hospital, he said mom wasn't the target."

"Okay..."

"This guy... Paul Caponi," Oliver brought up a photo of the man who had been the target and killed, "He was trying to close a deal with her when they were shot at. He works for Bertinelli Construction. And Frank Bertinelli."

"The mob boss." Diggle told Tommy at his furrowed brows.

"I did some digging." Oliver continued, "Caponi isn't the first member of Bertinelli's crew who'd been hit."

"You did some digging." Diggle said.

"You did some digging, Oliver." Tommy repeated, too. "Why the hell did you do some digging?"

"Bertinelli has a long list of enemies." Oliver ignored him. "The best way to figure out who's trying to target his organization is to get inside of it." He stood and walked past his best-friend.

"Oliver!" Tommy grabbed his shoulder, jerking him back around. Right now, he didn't care that Oliver could kill him with his pinkie. "Why the hell aren't you at the hospital with your mother?"

"It's fine," Oliver said. "Thea's with her."

"That doesn't matter. You should be there, too."

"You're not processing this emotionally, Oliver." Diggle agreed, standing next to Tommy.

"I'm not trying to process this emotionally." Oliver retorted.

"Maybe that's your problem."

Oliver shook his head. "Bertinelli's on the list-"

"What? So that just automatically means that it has to be you that brings him down? There are hundreds of names on that goddamned list, Oliver!" Tommy shouted. "You cannot honestly believe that you can cross every one off before this whole things gets you killed. Can't you just let the cops do their job for once?" he demanded. "Go be with your family!"

"I tried that!" Oliver shouted back in a moment of lost control. He continued in a tighter, more constrained volume, "Thea openly accused me of lying and she was right. I can't very well tell her that I left our mother alone and bleeding on the pavement because I wasn't fast enough to almost rundown the attacker. So, yes; I am going after Bertinelli because this _is_ something I can do to protect my family. And when I find the guy who did this—he's a dead man." He turned and left the lair.

Tommy sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face. "And I didn't even get to tell him that Laurel and I are going on a date." He muttered.

"Now's not the time, man." Diggle told him.

"Yeah?" Tommy said, looking up. "And what happens when he hears it from someone else? No, it has to come from me."

 **X**

"Oliver-" Tommy started.

"Sorry, Tommy, I can't talk. I've got a business thing."

"A business thing, really?" he looked up and down at his friend's attire, a collared shirt and tie. "I'll walk you to your vehicle of choice then, because there's something we need to talk about."

Oliver sighed and walked the path. "The discussion from the lair is finished. I've made up my mind."

"It most definitely isn't over," Tommy countered. "But I know I can't change your mind from this whole infiltration thing you plan on doing. But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it, then?"

"Laurel-"

Oliver groaned. "Tommy!"

"I asked her out on a date."

Oliver stopped short, still. But said nothing.

Tommy forced himself to continue. "She said yes. I wanted to tell you before you found it out from someone else—especially from Laurel. I understand that it's weird, but I think that there is something here and I wanted to give it a shot—a chance. I'm not asking your permission, I'm just giving you forewarning."

Oliver gave a sharp inhale through his nose. "That's good, Tommy. Laurel deserves someone special and so do you. I gotta run." He closed the distance to the jag and got in. The engine roared to life.

Tires squealed. Tommy watched the car peel from the parking lot and wondered if he was ever going to get a real reaction out of his friend or if it was always just going to be this controlled, contained, 'zen' bullshit.

 **X**

The date had gone good. Better than good. Tommy would have went as far as to say... excellent. They talked, they joked, they laughed. Then his card was declined and cut—Laurel had to pay for dinner. And he was just confused and humiliated. He was the son of a billionaire, he didn't get card-cut!

His visit with his father just added more humiliation and righteousness. There was nothing wrong with the accounts—his father had simply cut him off. But there was no 'simple' about it. He now had access to no accounts, the only money to his name was the cash in his wallet. His father's answer to his demand of _What The Hell, Dad?!_ had been _Why Not Sooner._ And he hadn't even done anything lately to piss his father off, tarnish the Merlyn name. And since Oliver came back he'd been especially law-abiding—which was ironic seeing as Oliver was the vigilante.

...

"Det. Lance," Tommy greeted in surprise as he passed the man on the drive to the door. He got a hostile grimace in return. "He try and arrest you again, or what?" he hooked a thumb over his shoulder as Oliver let him in.

"Warning me off Helena Bertinelli," Oliver said ironically.

Tommy's brow furrowed at the name. "The mob boss' daughter?" he asked in a hushed tone. Oliver nodded, leading Tommy into the empty reading room. He shut the door. " _That_ is your idea of infiltrating this guy's operation?" he was incredulous.

"The opportunity presented itself and I took advantage," Oliver defended his decision.

Tommy shook his head. "And how exactly is she supposed to get you the information about the shooter that almost killed your mom?"

"Very useful, actually," Oliver answered, "Seeing as the shooter is her?"

"What? That's-"

"Crazy? Yeah."

"But... why?"

Oliver sighed. "We're still trying to figure that out. What could be her motive for attacking her own family?"

"I can sympathize," Tommy muttered.

"Tommy?" he was surprised at his friend's tone.

Tommy sighed and sat on the edge of the recliner. "That's why I came over. I- my dad cut me off last night."

"What?" Oliver sat on the arm of the adjacent recliner.

"Talked with him this morning." He scoffed. "With no warning he cut off my access to the account, cancelled my credit cards. I have to be out of my apartment by the end of the month. My car was repossessed—I had to take a cab here for God's sake! Do you know how much that cost?" he gave a humourless chuckle. "I never really had to care before. My dad is such a bastard!" he put his head in his hands in shame, "What am I supposed to do now, Ollie. He's screwed me!"

Oliver put a hand on his shoulder. "You know my trust fund is your trust fund, Tommy." He said sincerely. "And, you know you can always stay here if you need a place to crash."

"Really?" Tommy rose his head.

Oliver nodded. "I'll talk to mom when she's feeling better. God knows we have enough spare rooms." He stood.

"You're a really good friend, Oliver." Tommy pulled Oliver into a hug. He was a little stiff, but a couple seconds later, he hugged back, thumping his back. "It'll be just like when we were kids." He pulled back.

"Yeah."

"So?" Tommy asked. "What are you going to do about Helena?"

"I'll take care of it," he answered quietly.

Tommy sighed internally. _Oliver knows what he's doing. Now I just gotta get_ _ **my**_ _act together._

 _f_

* * *

 **aRROW**

 _I know it seemed anticlimactic, but I have some plans for the next episode in my head that will hopefully translate well on the keyboard._

 _After re-watching Episode 10 "Burned" I realized Oliver's Lair was in the Verdant basement from the beginning. I don't know why, I just always thought it was in the abandoned steel factory in the beginning, then after the club was finished moved it there. I can't believe I never seemed to make the connection that the steel factory_ _ **is**_ _Verdant._


	8. Chapter 8: Vendetta

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 8 - "Vendetta"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _When Oliver meets someone he deems his equal, Tommy finds himself losing place within the Hood dynamic._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Vendetta"**

"Diggle?" Tommy answered his cell phone in surprise.

" _Hey, Merlyn_." Diggle said. " _Can you talk_?" It wasn't a question of the time, but of the surrounding audience.

Tommy looked around his apartment and the pile of flat cardboard boxes. He didn't have the money to hire packers; Laurel had at least gotten him the boxes. "Yeah."

" _I don't think you should come to the lair for a while_." Diggle told him.

"What? Why?" he felt anxiety kick in. "Did something happen? Is Oliver okay?" he demanded, getting to his feet and ready to head over right that minute. "I'll co-"

" _Physically, he could win the Olympics_." That eased Tommy somewhat, but that left the question of- " _But, I don't know... it's like he's caught in her spider web_."

"Her?" Tommy repeated in confusion. His first thought had been of Laurel (it always was when a nameless _her_ was mentioned), but then someone else occurred to him. "Wait—you don't mean Bertinelli's daughter, do you?"

 _"The very one."_

"I don't understand," the former scion admitted. "Helena nearly killed Moira. He told me that she was the one that killed those guys. I asked him what he was going to do—he said he was going to take care of it. I kind of assumed-"

" _He was going to make a dead-man out of her_?" Diggle made a humourless sound at the other end of the line. " _Yeah. Apparently a few things have gone down this last week that he'd neglected to tell you, Merlyn_."

"Then _you_ tell me, Diggle." Tommy said firmly.

" _Helena was going after her father's organization because it turns out that she was gathering evidence on him to turn into the FBI. Her father found the laptop and assumed it was her fiancée, so he had the guy killed. Helena found out the truth and has been going on a revenge crusade_."

"That's one reason for it." Tommy noted. "Something tells me I'm not going to like what you say next much."

" _You'd be right_." Diggle agreed. " _He sympathizes with her, thinks he can help her. Their situations have a common denominator, after all. He met with her the other night and Bertinelli's second picked them up, he found out that Helena was the killer after the fight at the restaurant_." He sighed. He dropped the bomb: " _ **Oliver revealed his Hood-identity**_ _Tommy_."

"What?!" Tommy cried out. "She knows Ollie is the"—his voice automatically hushed—"Hood? Diggle, that-!"

" _Keep your head, Merlyn_!" Diggle commanded him in a cool voice.

"You're right, you're right." Tommy took some deep breaths and reasoned, "Even if she know' he's the Hood, what can she really do? She doesn't have any proof. It's not like she can reveal Oliver without outing herself as a killer. She doesn't have the location of the lair." He let out a relieved breath and slumped against the wall. "She doesn't know about us. So there's nothing to worry about." There was silence on the other end. "Diggle? Oliver slept with her, didn't he?" Tommy realized. "That stupid son of a bitch!"

" _Tommy_ -"

"Oh, shit! You just called me by my first name, you never do that. This must be bad. What aren't you telling me, Diggle?" his mind raced as he tried to think, and dread filled him. "You don't want me to come by the lair because- because she _knows_? Diggle, how- how could she know?"

 _"Because Oliver took her there."_

"Because they had sex and it's been a while for Oliver and he let it slip." Tommy interpreted. "It happens to the best of us."

" _Merlyn_ ," Diggle growled. " _This was a mistake, yes. But Oliver is not seeing it that way. He's got it in his head that he can help her, make her see the 'light'. That there's a right way to have her crusade; with the right weapons, without hurting innocents. He_ -"

"You mean, he's training her." Tommy was still, his voice level. Something welled in his chest that put a sour taste in his throat. After everything he had offered, it had been deny, deny, deny. And here his best-friend was, embracing this killer. "Just finish it, Diggle." He told the silent man. "Don't try and spare me now."

 _"He took her out on a name."_

Tommy slowly slid down the wall until he was on the floor. It hurt, and he didn't want to see why.

The truth was, they'd both learned of Oliver's secret identity in the same way. They'd both been kidnapped, and Oliver had revealed his secret to save them. The only _key_ difference between them, was that Oliver believed Tommy unconscious for the drugs and had no intention of him ever finding out the truth. But Oliver had made the very conscious decision to reveal himself to Helena who had been very aware.

So, she won, hadn't she? Tommy had to wheedle and pick the information out of Oliver in bits and pieces; but Oliver gravitated towards her, shared openly. Oliver never offered to train him; Oliver would never take him out in the field to cross a name off the list. Tommy was his best-friend since before even Thea had been born; he'd met Helena a week ago on a mission.

He swallowed thickly and licked his lips. "Okay. Thanks for telling me, Diggle. I won't come by the lair." He hung up before he could hear the pity in the bodyguard's next words; he was already feeling enough self-pity. He knew a kick in the ass out the door when he felt one—his father had already given him one, after all.

 **X**

Tommy had convinced Laurel of a make-up date with reservations to the new restaurant Table Salt on its Opening Night. But the maître d' was being stubborn (i.e. a bitch) about seating them on the busy night. His name had gotten him the reservation, but it was cash that always greased the pace. Money that he couldn't spar. And the last thing he expected was to see Oliver there—with Helena Bertinelli as his date. It never even registered to him that it might be her, until Oliver introduced her as Helena.

He wanted to punch Oliver so hard, grab Laurel, and get the hell out of there. But if he did that, people would think he'd lost his mind—he thought it would be worth it if he could get Laurel away from this chick. What the hell was Oliver thinking?

He left the invitation of joining the couple up to Laurel, praying that she would not be her usual stubborn self and decline; but typical Laurel agreed.

If Tommy didn't know the truth, he would have believed it was a good double-date. But he knew the truth on all three-sides. And he couldn't watch it any more; Oliver and Laurel, and Helena across from him.

He realized truths he'd always known but wanted to live in the denial of green grass in his field.

"I'm not feeling too good," Tommy spoke suddenly, standing. "I'm going to step outside."

"Wait, Tommy!" Laurel quickly blurted out pleasantries to the couple before going after Tommy. "Tommy? Are you alright, was it something you ate? Definitely getting a bad review."

 _I wish,_ Tommy thought. "No, Laurel, the food was great." He exhaled and closed his briefly as if he could shield himself from imminent heartbreak. "Laurel, we need to talk..."

 **X**

Tommy found Oliver early the next morning, confronting the man in the empty mansion. He'd spent a restless night in his apartment, processing his break-up with Laurel and working on friendship between them instead, and thinking about where his friendship with Oliver stood a present, both in public view and private. It was almost Christmas, what better time to have pre-mid-life crises revelations.

"Oliver, what the hell do you think you're doing? How could you bring that woman anywhere near Laurel?" he forewent with greetings, slamming the door behind him.

Oliver blinked at him in surprise, then his friend's accusations registered. He instantly went on defence. "Hey, it's not like I knew the two of you would be there!"

"You asked us to _join_ you!" he scoffed and shook his head.

"I didn't think you'd agree."

"It's Laurel!" Tommy said, as if that explained it. And it most certainly did. "What are you doing with her anyways? She's a killer-"

Oliver's face went steel, "Then so am I."

"You are nothing like her, Oliver." Tommy declined Oliver's association without hesitation. "Do you hear yourself? She's out for revenge—death. She wants her father to suffer. And she'll kill anyone who gets in her way. Innocent people like your mom! Would you be defending her like this if she'd killed Moira instead of just injuring her? What is wrong with you right now? Where is your head?"

"You can't understand, Tommy! You or Diggle. The things I've been through—she understands. She knows-"

"Oh," Tommy interrupted sarcastically. "She was ship-wrecked on a island crawling with bad guys, too?"

"Not literally." He frowned. "But emotionally, she understands. Her father murdered the love of her life. He started her on this path. And Robert started me on mine. I've killed in his name. He had blood on his hands then he took mine, and now I have blood on my own."

"The love of her life?" Tommy repeated, sitting on the edge of the blond's bed. He quirked a brow. "Like the love of your life-"

"What do you expect me to say?" Oliver growled in frustration, throwing his hands up. "That I still love Laurel? Is that what you're after?"

"Only if it's true." He replied evenly, curious. "Is it?"

Oliver paced. "I don't know! Yes! Of course! I'll always love her. Nothing will ever change that. She's Laurel. But she's Laurel. I cheated on her, treated her like crap. I killed her sister. What am I supposed to do with that? I can't _talk_ to her. But with Helena, I can talk to her and she understands. She sees me, this other me and she isn't frightened. I don't have to lie or pretend with her. It's out in the open. There's no weight on my chest."

"So you run into the arms of a killer, because she understands what you're feeling?" Tommy summarized. "Oliver, you're forced to keep your family at arms length, never allowed to reveal this important piece of to them for fear of putting them in danger or rejection. You're lonely, that understandable. And Helena's may be the first person you thought could understand... but _you_ have to understand, Oliver, that the danger you're so worried about putting everyone in—well it's here. And it's in the form of that dangerous woman."

"You're wrong about her," Oliver denied, vibrating. "You have no idea what you're taking about. Mind your own self, Tommy! Look at your own yard before you peer through the hedges." And he slammed door behind him.

Tommy heaved a heavy sigh. There was no point in running after the man, the former scion would never catch him. Hopefully, Oliver would realize the mistake he was making before it was too late and the people he loved got hurt; he'd never forgive himself.

 **X**

Tommy was sick of being shunned out. He'd been texting and calling Oliver all night, even Diggle, but had been getting no response. He was starting to get pissed. And was urged into action of going to the lair after Breaking News scrolled across the TV screen with mention of the Bertinelli name.

He called out as he came down the stairs, but the factory basement was dark but for the moonlight through the blocked windows and no vigilante and bodyguard present. He came to the decision of staying, figuring that Oliver and Diggle were out busy dealing with what he saw on the news, and this was the first place they'd be when they were done.

He started to shed his coat when he noticed a medium-sized, mahogany polished hinge-box on the table that he'd never seen before. Curious, he approached and opened the lid. Sitting nestled in the silk cushion was what looked like a mini-crossbow. No way was this Oliver's. Tommy carefully picked the unloaded weapon in hand. He must have gotten it for-

"I believe that's mine." A voice said behind him.

Tommy jumped with an exclaim, hot-potatoing the crossbow briefly before he managed to clasp it to his chest with both hands. He turned, heart-racing, to watch Helena step from the gloom. "H-Helena."

"Tommy, right? Oliver's best-friend. Tommy Merlyn." She rested her hand up on the pillar beside her. "He told you his secret, huh?"

She slowly approached. He took an instinctive step back from the dangerous woman, but it gave no distance between them and instead put his ass against the edge of the table.

A smirked danced across her lips. "Does he take you out there, to cross names off his little list?"

"That's none of your business."

"Or are you just his pet?" she mused. "Come running when he calls. Even come crawling back after he's kicked you?" she suggested, stopping in front of him.

Tommy was silent. Not looking from his eyes, she slowly reached forward like toward a skittish animal and laid it on the crossbow in his arms. Tommy tightened his hold.

"Now, pet," she admonished. "Ollie gave this to me as a gift. Be a good boy and hand it over without fuss."

"You're not getting it," he refused, probably foolishly. "Oliver thought you were a kindred spirit, he trusted you. But you're just a cold-blooded killer. You nearly killed his mom in your stupid crusade! You're nothing like him. _Nothing_."

"Oh, pet," she tsked with underlying fury. Her other hand came down gently on his shoulder, and he flinched anyway, before she caressed down his arm. Her grip was like a vice at his elbow. "You're being a very bad boy."

There was a yank and a twist, and then Tommy's world was just a scary fast blur as Helen flipped him over the table. Its contents crashed around him as he slammed into the concrete—and the back of his head cracked against the ground.

His conscious fluttered briefly like a butterfly's wings as he was aware of Helena crouching beside him. "Till next time, pet." And he out.

...

"Tommy! Hey, Tommy!" Oliver called him awake worriedly.

Tommy groaned and cracked his eyes open to see a blurry Hooded-up Oliver crouching beside him and Diggle standing behind his shoulder. "Oliver?"

"Yeah. Can you sit up?" with a hand on his arm, and one at the back of his shoulder, Oliver helped him.

Tommy moaned. "Feels like a hangover without all the fun beforehand."

Next Oliver hefted him up to his feet and Tommy sat heavily into the chair Diggle dragged over as he got a brief spell of dizziness. "Buddy?"

"I'm okay." Tommy promised as he took an ice pack Diggle gave him.

"Look's like its just a bump. You might have a mild concussion. You should be fine." Diggle told him, leaning back against the edge of the table.

"That crazy chick flipped me over a table," Tommy remarked. "How is that even possible?"

"You don't pose much of a challenge," Diggle noted. "Didn't I tell you not to come by the lair for a while?"

"Yeah, well, I saw the news and I got worried when no one answered my calls. So I made the decision to wait for you. But she was here instead. She wanted tthe crossbow and I tried to stop her, which was-"

"Stupid?" Diggle supplied.

"Yes." He ground out.

"I'm sorry, Tommy." Oliver said quietly.

Tommy looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

Oliver looked between the two men contritely. "I should have listened to both you and Dig about her. I didn't want to see it. I wanted to believe I could help her. And you got hurt because of it."

"You're being an idiot right now, is what you are." Tommy told him. "You heard Diggle and his excellent medical opinion; I'm going to be fine—probably."

"Tommy, that's not funny!" Oliver growled.

"You're _human_ , Oliver." Tommy told him decisively. "You have a heart. What you do isn't very easy. You're going to make mistakes just like the rest of us mere mortals. You have so much on your plate, your focus is torn in to many directions and that's why I have made the evacuative decision—I want to run your club."

"What?" Oliver was taken aback by the 180.

"Let me run your club." Tommy said. "I've been thinking about this, Oliver. I can't help you like Dig out in the field, can't talk strategy with you. But I can do this, that's what those framed pieces of paper say, anyway. I mean, pay me, but... let me run the club. Then you can focus on your Hood-business and I'll cultivate the nightclub business. Let me maintain your beard."

Oliver was silent as he stared at his best-friend.

"I think it's a good idea, Oliver." Diggle encouraged.

Oliver finally gave a slow nod. "Okay, Tommy. You're on," he held out his hand to his best-friend.

Tommy gave him a firm shake with the hand not holding the icepack to the back of his head. "I hope there are health benefits," he joked.

Oliver gave his head a little shake, but a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "That concussion didn't make you funnier,"

"Really? I thought it was pretty good, considering."

"You're still planning on staying at the mansion, right?" Oliver asked.

"If the offer is still on the table."

"Always, Tommy." He smiled. "Always."

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _Told you I had some plans for this episode, and some light Tommy whump, too. Your thoughts on breaking Tommy and Laurel up?_


	9. Chapter 9: Year's End

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 9 - "Year's End"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _It must be Christmas because Tommy finally gets to meet IT Girl! If only all things were so great._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Year's End"**

"How was dinner with dear old dad?" Tommy asked, intercepting Oliver and Diggle in the foyer as he came down the stairs. But he closed the distance as he saw their Hood-faces. "What's wrong?"

"Business." Oliver said.

"Great!" Tommy said brightly, knowing exactly what his friend was trying to do. "Being your newly-minted general manger, I'll join you." He quickly slipped on his coat. "Well? I assume this was an emergency with the rush you're in."

...

"Adam Hunt?" Tommy asked, "Was that the guy that the Hood stole, like, $40 million from on the night of your welcome home party?" Oliver nodded. "I was not as drunk as I wanted to be that night." He remarked. "And now this Nelson Ravich?"

"So what's another archer doing taking out names you crossed out?" Diggle wondered. "Two is more than a coincidence. Is he calling you out?"

"Whatever he's trying to do, it needs to stop." Oliver growled. "I need to get my hands on one of those arrows, then I'll be able to get a bead on this archer."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Diggle asked. "The arrows are in police evidence. You plan on breaking into the precinct again?"

"That won't work this time," Oliver noted. "I'm going to have to go to Det. Lance."

"Okay, a couple things," Tommy spoke. "One, we'll talk about what he just said before, later." He pointed at Diggle. "And second, I thought I just heard you say you were going to go to Lance—as the Hood?"

Oliver turned to him. "Look, Lance hates _me_ and he's out for the vigilante's blood, but he won't let his own personal feelings get in the way of doing his job—he's not that kind of man. I heard him talking at the scene; he doesn't think it's m- The Hood."

"Back to Diggle's question: how are you going to accomplish this?"

"Cell phone." Oliver said simply, holding up an encrypted cell.

"Are we going Hood Express?" Tommy said sarcastically, but Oliver just looked like Tommy gave him a great idea. "You're kidding, right? You can't just mail him some cell phone!"

...

"I can't believe Lance actually gave you that." Tommy said in awe.

"He's desperate. The police commissioner wants to blame all this on The Hood instead of catch the real killer; Lance isn't going to let that stand." Oliver examined the sleek black arrow, "This is definitely a custom job. Teflon-coated titanium blades, serrated to split the bone. The shaft is some type of specialized polymer—stronger than your typical carbon fibre."

"Yes, thank you for making those sound as scary as they look." Tommy said. "But what exactly does that tell us, how are you supposed to find this guy?"

Oliver flicked a glance at Diggle. "We're going to have to go outside present company."

"YES!" Tommy jumped to his feet. "This is my Christmas present!" he declared and got two confused looks. "You're going to visit IT Girl. I'm going." He clapped his hands and raised them overhead in cheer. "Executive decision!"

"And who say you get an executive decision?" Oliver raised a brow.

"I've decided that I get executive decision, by executive decision of self appointment."

Oliver was too amused by the notion to argue further. "Now I just have a Christmas party to plan."

"Are you sure you don't want any help with that?" Tommy started to offer, but Oliver shook his head.

"Like I told Thea; this is gonna be all me."

 **X**

Tommy had dropped off a little present for Laurel that he had found while he'd been packing up his apartment. Lance was there, and was a little more crusty than usual; which Tommy understood, it being the Holiday and Sara's absence. He left an open invitation to her on Oliver's behalf to the Christmas bash that the blond was so intent on throwing, before he rushed back to join the man on his visit to QC.

"Felicity?" Oliver knocked on the office door and stuck his head in.

"Oliver?" Felicity looked up from her tablet in surprise. "I didn't hear you coming. Er-"

"Can I ask a favour?"

"Sure, co- enter." Oliver stepped in and Tommy quickly followed. "Or, should I say: Oliver and friend."

"This is-"

"Tommy Merlyn." Tommy stepped forward, hand extended. "Best-friend and brains of the ensemble." Oliver gave him a glower. "And you're Felicity... Smoak," he read the nameplate on the edge of her desk. "It's great to finally meet you, Oliver talks about you all the time."

"Oh." Felicity remarked. "I really hope that's not true. Otherwise you'd be talking about me in the bathroom or in bed..." her eyes widened. "Not that you would talk about me in bed or I would ever be in your bed-" she cringed, cutting herself off. "Sorry."

Tommy grinned, sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "You do _not_ need to apologize." He assured. He looked to Oliver, still standing. "Best Christmas present ever."

"Christmas present?" Felicity wondered.

"I've been trying to get Oliver to let me meet you for a while," he explained. "But someone was being possessive." He nudged his friend hip with an elbow.

"Ahem. Speaking of presents..." Oliver interceded. "Our buddy Steve is really into archery. We wanted to get him more arrows as a Christmas present, but they're custom-made." He took the arrow that Lance had given them from a cardboard tube and held it out. "Do you think you can figure out where he got them?"

"Huh. Oliver, Tommy, and Steve." Felicity mused. "It just doesn't have the same ring to it." But she carefully took the pointy weapon from Oliver.

"Oh, yeah. Steve's a great buddy of ours." Tommy nodded.

"Alright." She typed on her computer. "The shaft composite is patented to... Sagittarius, not the zodiac sign which coincidently represent the archer, but the company." She looked up at him. "Do you want me to order them for you?"

"No, no." Oliver said. "We can do that. Thank you." He took the arrow back. "Thanks again for the help, Felicity." Oliver nodded and left.

"Merry Christmas." Tommy said in parting, about to follow Oliver out.

"I'm Jewish." She blurted.

Tommy paused and turned back. "So you're against Christmas, then?"

"What? Of course not? Who could be against Christmas? It's like being against chocolate! It's impossible."

"I don't like chocolate." Tommy told her with a straight face.

She blinked rapidly behind her glasses, her lips slightly parted as she was derailed by his admittance. "Really? That must be terrible for you," she whispered.

Tommy chuckled. "No, I like chocolate just fine; I just wanted to see your face. It was cute."

She went red. "Lying to me already."

"Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention." He said. "Listen, Oliver's throwing a last-minute Christmas party at the mansion. You should come."

"I don't think that would be appropriate." Felicity said. "I hardly know Oliver and I just met you."

"Friend's aren't made by caution," he advised. "How about... you think of it as a work requirement?"

"You're not a Queen. You don't even work here! You can't just order me to go to a Christmas party thrown by my boss's step-son."

"I _am_ said step-son's best-friend, I have sanction-rights in his stead." Tommy pointed out. "Do you have plans for that night?" Felicity stammered, scrambling for an excuse. "There you go, you do now. Besides, are you willing to risk it, Ms. Smoak?" he teased, "You seem like a very conscientious worker to me. You don't want to give the wrong impression, do you? Declining the invitation to your boss's step-son's Christmas party via your boss's step-son's best-friend?" He winked and departed before she could refuse. Now he wondered if she was actually going to show.

 **X**

Tommy was glad that Laurel had decided to come and not hide away with Lance for the Holidays, but he quickly made his excuses as he saw the blond tentatively enter the foyer.

"You came!" Tommy smiled, handing her coat and scarf to the attendant. "There's not a rebellious bone in your body, is there?"

"If I hang around you long enough, I'm sure that will change." She replied. "Turn my bones black."

"Black? I'm hurt," He put a mock hand to his heart. "Grey at the most. I've mellowed out in my old-age." That got him a small smile.

Felicity took a deep breath. "I decided to brave the awkwardness."

"Well, go, Ms. Smoak, dive into that awkwardness head-first," he swept his arm outward. "Because I'm going to abandon you for a minute."

"What? Bu-" but he was already gone. Felicity's eyes widened as she swallowed and looked at all the richy-rich.

"Felicity?"

"Mr. Steele," she said nervously.

"Are you here for me?"

"No, sir. Me." Tommy suddenly popped back up at her side. "Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not." Walter nodded to the woman. "Enjoy yourselves." He left the pair.

"Phew, that was a close one." Tommy joked.

Felicity gave him a glare, smacking him on the chest without thought. "That's not funny."

"What are you worried about?" he asked. "98% of the guest list is business associates. You'll blend right in. Eggnog?" he held a glass to her. "With a little extra Holiday cheer." His brows waggled.

"My kind of 'nog," she muttered. She took the 'nog with a murmured thanks and took a precious sip. "I've only been in your company for a collective of under two hours and already you're a bad influence."

Tommy grinned. "That sounds like a challenge."

"No, no. That was _not_ a challenge. Definitely not a challenge." She shook her head rapidly.

"Oh, but the gauntlet has been thrown." Tommy's eyes twinkled.

Felicity protested, "I distinctly remember no gauntlet being thrown!"

"Felicity." She stopped at his tone. He leaned close and whispered, "I'll be gentle, promise." And winked.

She made a sound at the back of her throat and her cheeks went hot. "You are terrible, Tommy Merlyn!"

Tommy pulled back and chuckled. "Terrible in a lovable way."

Tommy caught sight of Diggle taking Oliver to an unoccupied room and he knew it was Hood business happening. Did the other archer kill someone else from Ollie's list? Why did it have to be tonight of all nights?

"Laurel?" Tommy quickly waved the woman over. "This is Felicity, she works at QC." And he quickly left them.

"Oh, umm..."

"Hi," they said at the same time and chuckled.

Tommy found Oliver and Diggle in the family room. "What's up?"

Diggle gestured at the TV. "' _For the past 3 months this city has been laid siege by a vigilante. But the police have been unable to bring him to_ _justice_ _because they lack the will to do what justice demands. I will kill one hostage every hour in the name of this vigilante until he surrenders himself to my authority._ _'_ _"_

"Holy crap!" Tommy exclaimed in horror. "He took hostages?"

"Police are on the scene, let them handle this." Diggle advised, looking at Oliver.

"Those people are there because of me." Oliver said gruffly, unable to tear his eyes from the TV. "I have to end this."

"Diggle's right-" Tommy started.

Oliver turned to him with hard eyes. "What makes you think they're better equipped at taking this monster down than I am?" he gestured at the TV.

"Guns!" Tommy told him. "They have guns and they have numbers!"

"I've gone against guns and the only thing they did was slow me down. No," he shook his head. "It has to be me. There wasn't anything on the island that wasn't twice as dangerous as this pretender—and I survived."

"Then we better go before he kills a hostage." Diggle said.

Tommy sighed and watched his friends depart. It was friggin Christmas, couldn't this asshole at least wait until after the Holidays? He slumped onto the couch arm and stared helplessly at the TV.

"Hey, you okay?" Felicity appeared at his side.

"Yeah. Just the Grinch making an appearance." He turned off the TV and stood. "Refill?" he asked.

"Yes, please." She smiled. "But make it a virgin this time. The last thing I need is to get drunk at my boss's house."

 **X**

"God, Ollie." Tommy closed the hospital room door behind him. Visiting hours were over, but he'd managed to sneak by the nurses station. "How you doing, buddy?" he approached the bed. The worse he had seen Oliver injured was the bullet graze from Deadshot, but this was different, because it was utterly visible; Oliver's face covered in molten bruises and nicks.

Oliver swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood stiffly with a quiet grunt. Tommy fought the urge to go and put a supporting hand on his friend, because Oliver was projecting and it screamed DON'T TOUCH! Oliver stood at the window, staring out into the Starling night. His back was to them, but Tommy could make the blurry mirage of his best-friend's reflection and it put a lump in his throat.

"When I confront somebody on the list, I tell them they failed this city." There was a pregnant silence. "But tonight—it was me who failed."

"Oliver!" Tommy was utterly taken aback. "You're not dead. You're not defeated. You'll have another go at this asshole and next time, you'll take care of him. Now that you know what you're up against, the advantage is on your side."

But Oliver was just silent and it didn't bode well with either sidekick and partner.

"Oliver, five hostages are home tonight with their families enjoying the holidays because of you." Diggle reminded him. "This other archer... he'll get his. And you'll give it to him.

When Oliver did finally speak, it was gravely: "I think there's someone else out there who is more of a danger than the archer."

"What do you mean?" Tommy questioned, sure he had missed something.

"The archer told me that somebody compiled the list. I always assumed it was my father but now I'm not so sure." Oliver promised, "But I'm going to find out—And I am going to take him down."

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _So, what's your take on my bringing Tommy to meet Felicity earlier in the season as opposed to waiting to introduce them in_ _ **Episode 14: Odyssey**_ _?_


	10. Chapter 10: Burned

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 10 - "Burned"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy thought he'd be happy that Oliver hung up his Hood after his defeat by the Dark Archer, but this shell was not the man his friend was supposed to be._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Burned"**

Tommy groaned as he lay on the mats, looking a pitiful man.

"You're pathetic, Merlyn." Diggle stood over him. He extended his hand, "Come on. You think they'd stop just because you're on the ground?"

Tommy grumbled, but took the proffered hand, getting pulled to his feet. "You're only beating me up 'cause Oliver's been boring."

"And it's not like you don't need to the training." Tommy rolled his eyes at the ironic tone. "You ever want to get out into the field?"

That caused the former scion pause. "I thought you and Oliver said I'd never go out into the field?"

"With your amassed fighting skills," he replied. "Why would we want to stop you?"

"Very funny." But he got into stance, raising his fists loose in front of him. "You'd probably have a safer time taking Laurel; she can kiss-ass."

"Maybe I'll ask her."

Tommy flashed him a frown even though he knew Diggle wasn't serious. "If I even get into a situation where I need these skills, I'm already dead."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No." And Tommy made his move—and ended up with his face in the mat, wrist twisted and arm locked straight out behind his shoulder.

...

Tommy sat in a chair, trying to decide which sore spot took precedence and the attention of the icepack; while Diggle hadn't even broken a sweat.

"I'm worried." Tommy said suddenly into the silence of the lair. "His ribs have been healed for weeks, but he still hasn't put on the Hood. It's like that fight broke his incentive to cross out the list."

"He's scared," Diggle told him, knowingly. "I don't think Oliver's faced someone like this other archer before. This has been his closest call since being back. He was left helpless. And he's worried about his step-dad and family."

"Do you think it's connected with the list?" Tommy wondered, voicing a consistent thought he's had since Walter had gone missing six weeks ago.

Diggle paused and looked at him. "Why would Mr. Steele's disappearance be connected to Oliver's list?"

Tommy shrugged. "He disappeared the same night that Oliver fought the Dark Archer, and then he just disappeared himself. I'm just saying, it's a little suspicious."

"The Dark Archer?" Diggle raised a brow.

"He's an archer, but he's evil. It's better than keep calling him 'the other archer'."

Diggle shook his head. "Name a fear, empower a fear."

"I thought it was... to name your fear is to acknowledge it, and to acknowledge it is to weaken its hold over you." Diggle stared at him. "Right, shocked silent, huh?"

"Not shock, just insight."

"Whatever." Tommy stood. "Now that I'm not constantly worrying about Oliver out there at night, getting killed, I have more time to focus on getting this club off the ground and hang out with Laurel or Felicity. And right now, I have dinner plans with Laurel."

 **X**

"Why don't you just do your job, Diggle?" Oliver's growl emanated around the lair.

"Watching you waste yourself away in self-pity." Was Diggle's sarcastic retort.

"I can just as easily fire you and hire someone else." He threatened.

"Whoa! Hey!" Tommy cried, running down the stairs. "Let's not kill each other, please." He intervened on the charged space between them. "I never thought I'd have to be referee between _you two._ "

"Tell him-" Oliver started.

"Aht aht. I'm pretty sure you already told him in so many words and he said it back in so many words." Tommy said. "I am not going to be a voice-puppet between the two of you. But Diggle's right, Oliver." He turned to his glaring friend. "We're all worried about Walter, but is you commiserating and hanging up your Hood really the best you can do in this situation?"

"The people on the list aren't going anywhere, right now my family needs me." His tone was final.

 **X**

"Hey, Ollie. I thought this is where I'd find you." Tommy clapped his friend's knee as he sat on the couch cushion next to him. Oliver seemed to have made the family room at the mansion his new brooding lair instead of the basement at the foundry. "You make up with Diggle yet, or did you fire him?"

"Tommy." Oliver grunted impatiently, looking through the TV instead of watching it.

"So... I was having dinner with Laurel last night…" Tommy opened casually, staring at the TV himself. He felt the twitch where their shoulders touched, despite the blond not drawing his eyes from the television, paying attention now despite himself. "Joanna dropped by. Her brother was the fireman that died in the blaze at the plant the other night. Well, she got a hold of the incident report and some things just didn't sit right with her about how he died—and I have to agree. His turnout coat was doused in turpentine but the plant owner said there was none in the factory. Apparently he burned hotter than the fire that killed him."

There was silence between them before Oliver finally looked over at his friend. "What's your point, Tommy? Why are you telling me this?"

"Wh- I'm telling the Hood, Ollie." Tommy looked back. "That's still you, isn't it? Something is obviously hinky here."

"A lot of things are 'hinky', Tommy. That doesn't mean something malicious is going on." Oliver retorted angrily. "Don't you have a club you should be working on?"

Tommy could easily read between the lines of what his best-friend had said. "You can't hide behind Walter's disappearance forever, Oliver." He stood and said earnestly, "Starling City still needs you, Ollie. Your work as the Hood is not done."

 **X**

"Wow, something has you fired up." Tommy smiled at the sight of Oliver on the mat. "Was my speech that inspiring?" he leaned against the pillar, arms crossed over his chest. This was the lightest he'd felt since Oliver's last fight with the Dark Archer.

"No. I got a call." He hoped to his feet and grabbed a towel.

"A call?"

"This all seems pretty thin, Oliver." Diggle said, clearing continuing a conversation that they'd been having before Tommy dropped in. "All part of the job."

"Can you look into it?" Oliver tossed the towel and zipped on a sweater.

"Yeah. I have a friend of a friend in the Fire Investigations Department. I'll reach out."

"Ho-ho-hold on." Tommy held up a confused hand. "You're looking into the fire I told you about this morning. But you just said I didn't-" the only other person who it could have possibly been was Laurel, but then- "Laurel? She talked to you? Well, you-you not you, alter-ego you. But how?" he shook his head in confusion.

"She got her hands on the cell I gave Lance when the other archer first appeared." Oliver answered his question. He addressed Diggle, "If you find something, leave a tip to the police."

"Police?" Diggle was surprised. "I thought you-"

"They just need something to jump-start their investigation." He left up the stairs.

Tommy and Diggle looked to each other. Diggle sighed, "It's a start."

"Laurel just needs to give him another push."

"I thought you didn't want Laurel involved."

"She's obviously involved herself. And once she's sunken her teeth into something, there's no getting her to let go unless she decides herself." He said knowingly. "At least she might be the kick in the ass that Oliver needs to get his head out of his ass." He groaned, "Right now I have a Gala to plan."

 **X**

Everything seemed to have gone as planned: Laurel's plead for The Hood's help had been just what Oliver needed to get back into action as Tommy had predicted, and had finally put the Hood back on for the first time since his fight with the Dark Archer. And Laurel seemed to be in Oliver's company for most of the Firemen's Gala.

Tommy had dropped an invite to Felicity when he took her out for coffee on her break the other day. He spotted her as she arrived halfway through the Gala.

"Should I get a fire extinguisher?" Tommy said when he saw her, wearing a hot dress; not that she wasn't gorgeous every time he saw her.

"W-what?" she halted. Her eyes widened suddenly. "Is there a fire?" she whipped her head around.

"I was talking about you." He chuckled. "I've never seen you with your hair down before. I like it."

"Oh." She blushed. "You clean up nice. Not that you weren't good-looking before. I mean... You just-" she waved her hand at him and gave him two thumbs up.

"Drink?" he smiled, taking two filled Champaign glasses from a passing waitress he'd hire for the night.

She took the drink. "Every other time we're together, you're giving me alcohol. Should I be worried?" she joked, taking a sip.

"I head I'm more tolerable to be around when you're buzzed," he joked. "Don't want to scare you away."

"I'm a tough girl, Mr Merlyn." Felicity informed him. "I think I can handle retired playboy, former billionaire, club general manager—not that that is _all_ you are and you're more than general-"

"Felicity," he put his hand on her bare upper arm.

"Yeah?" she drained her glass. "I'm just gonna get another one of these." She tapped the glass was off before he could stop her.

Tommy sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Scare her off already?" Diggle joked, appearing.

"Har har." Tommy said sarcastically. "Don't you have some securing to do?"

And then suddenly people were screaming as smoke filled the club and fire caught, lighting up all sheer material that he had hung to cover the bare bones of the inside of the club. Tommy and Diggle started to get people out there and harms way.

He was relieved when Laurel rushed passed, they squeezed each other's arms in reassurance before she was out the front doors with the others. But he hadn't seen- "Felicity!" he yelled.

"Merlyn, where—!" Diggle started, but was caught up in the mob as Tommy ran back inside.

He didn't think. Only that he'd last seen Felicity heading towards the temporary bar that was set up and hadn't seen her in the crowd through the doors. The smoke stung his eyes and the ashes of the burned material fell down on him like snow. The fire seemed to be everywhere. He caught sight of Oliver in his Hood through a brief opening in the flames, facing off with the fire killer who had murdered Joanna's brother and four others—and then he was thrown onto the floor, pain blooming at the back of his right shoulder.

Tommy groaned, confused. He started to push himself back onto his hands and knees.

"Meryln!" he thought he heard Diggle, and he was suddenly shoved back down, and his back was being patted frantically.

"Tommy!"

"Felicity." Tommy coughed, being hauled to his feet and ushered into movement before he could gain his feet properly. There was a firm grip on his right arm, and a desperate one on his left. And suddenly, it was a shock of fresh air that had him hacking and sounds of sirens, the clamour of frightened voices on all sides.

He straightened, gasping, and suddenly there was a head of loose blond hair under his nose and Felicity was hugging him.

"Thank God you're okay!" she gasped.

"Felicity!" he hugged her in relief, ignoring the burning pain at the back of his shoulder.

She pulled back and suddenly smacked him on the chest. "Diggle said you ran back in there. Are you crazy? You could have been killed. Why did you do that?"

"I didn't see you come out the front." Tommy swallowed. "I thought you might've been hurt."

"I was blocked by the fire, The Hood, and a crazy fireman, so I found my way out the back through the loading dock." She explained.

He looked at her smoke-streaked skin. "Did _you_ run back in for me?"

Felicity's blue eyes darted to meet Diggle's. "N-no."

"Tommy! Diggle!" Oliver called and he and Laurel joined them in relief. "Is everybody okay?"

"Merlyn should get checked out by the paramedics." Diggle said.

"Tommy?" Laurel asked in concern.

"I'm sure it's nothing-" he started, and got four looks from all sides. "Fine. It hurts like a bitch, okay? Everyone happy now?"

"No, we're not happy." Felicity said.

"Let's get you to a medic, buddy." Oliver agreed.

Not one else seemed to have been hurt. Some scrapes and bruises from the rush out, maybe a bit of smoke inhalation and shock from the fright. Tommy was the worst of it; with deep tissue bruising, and 2nd degree burns on his right back shoulder.

"You back?" Tommy murmured to his best-friend.

"I'm back." Oliver confirmed.

Seeing as he was the only one that got hurt, it was worth it if it got Oliver back into his Hood.

 _f_

 **aRROW**


	11. Chapter 11: Trust But Verify

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 11 - "Trust But Verify"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy tries to referee between Oliver and Diggle's disagreement on a list name; but who's going to referee for Tommy at dinner with his father?_

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Trust But Verify"**

"Hey, man." Diggle approached the pair. "You should think about getting a side-entrance to the, uh... Arrowcave with all the construction guys working upstairs."

"Arrowcave?" Oliver repeated and twisted his shoulder to give Tommy a disgusted look.

"Hmph!" Tommy protested, eyes wide and hands raised in innocence, a pair of chopsticks in one hand and noodles hanging from his mouth that he quickly slurped. "Hey, don't look at me. This was all him." He jabbed the chopsticks at the ex-solider.

Oliver turned back on his stool and raised a brow. "Arrowcave is terrible, we're not calling it that. The lair is fine."

"My conversion attempts have been a fail," Tommy joked. "It's hard to make a robot funny."

Diggle narrowed his brows at the dark-haired man. "What are you even doing down here, Merlyn? Shouldn't you be up there supervising?"

"I'm on my lunch break," Tommy held up his takeout carton and dug right back in with his chopsticks. "I'm a working man now, it' hungry work."

"Just put it one in the South alley." Oliver told Diggle. He set his tools on the table and went to the computer. "There's something I wanted to show you. You've seen the news about this team robbing armoured trucks?"

"Yeah." Diggle nodded and came to stand next to the blond. "I read about it in the papers. They've robbed three so far."

"That's why I keep all my money offshore." Tommy said way to casually. Oliver and Diggle gave him twin looks. " _If_ I had the money. I am taking general wages for my job position; the rest of your trust fund is going into the club. The fire set us back, but it wasn't like you had done much with the place besides the basement since you bought it."

"Fair enough," Oliver said and turned back to the monitor. "But when I saw the footage of the heist they broadcasted on the news, there was something familiar about it. And then I remembered, Kandahar '09." He brought up a feed from a drone; Tommy craned his neck to see the screen. "Three marines took out a Taliban transport vehicle."

"Now that you mention it... that's a classic swarming technique." Diggle agreed. "Where'd you find this?"

"Looking into this guy." Oliver brought up the guy's military headshot. He leaned both hands on the table. "Former military; now he works as a body guard for a private security firm. Blackhawk Squad Protection Group. Ted Gaynor. And you'll never guess, he's on th-"

"Diggle?" Tommy asked, setting down his takeout.

Oliver glanced Tommy's way before he straightened and turned to Dig, who had taken a step back, stood tense and had a expression of denial and perplexity. Oliver narrowed his eyes. "You know him, Diggle?"

"Ted Gaynor was my commanding officer in my first tour in Afghanistan."

"Dig, I'm sorry... but Gaynor's on the list."

Diggle looked at him. "Gaynor's a few hundred thousand dollars short of making your list, don't you think."

"I never said it was just 1%ers, did I?"

"Well this guy saved my life." He pointed at the screen. "He received a commendation for it. I don't care what your little book says, this guy ain't a stick-up man!"

"You haven't known him in a long time."

"We both kept in contact since we got stateside." Diggle contradicted. "6 months ago he even offered me a job at Blackhawk. Trust me, you don't know this man like I do."

"He's a shoe-in, Diggle." Oliver said. "And I know in Afghanistan his training specialty was M32 multiple grenade launchers. The exact same weapons used in these heists! They're not exactly something you can get at a sporting goods store."

"Two months ago we found out that this wasn't even your father's book." He retorted angrily. "Written by whoever hire the Dark Archer. Doesn't that beg the question... what else you might be wrong about?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Tommy left his stool and approached the seething pair. "He does have a point, Oliver. What's wrong with giving him benefit of the doubt?"

"Do you want to risk benefit of the doubt killing more men?" Oliver growled. "These guys have left no man alive after any of their truck robberies. Now, I'm going to have a pointed conversation with Gaynor and we'll see what he has to say-"

A cell ringing interrupted the heated conversation. Oliver and Diggle stared at Tommy. "Oh! That's me." He said awkwardly. He took his cell out his jeans pocket and made a face at his father's name at the screen.

"Either answer it or mute it, Merlyn!" Diggle ran a hand over his scalp in frustration.

Tommy looked between the two fuming men; and decided what felt like the lesser evil at the moment. It sucked picking sides; he always tried to be Switzerland if he could. "I'll just take this over there." He jerked his thumb back behind himself and promptly went to a far corner of the lair. "Yeah?" he answered curtly.

 _"Hey, Tommy."_ His dad said cheerfully.

"What is it, dad. I'm kinda busy right now." His own was not so.

Malcolm sighed. " _Tommy, I know things have been well strained between us since-"_

"Since you cut me off and told me I was a loser?" Tommy cut him off with a snort. "You could say that."

" _I was just trying to jolt you into adulthood. And look at you now. You've got your first job, heh. My tough love worked."_

"Don't you dare and try to take credit for this." Tommy hissed. "I'm where I am now because my best-friend has always cared about me more than you. The whole Queen family has been a better family. Now, what is it that you wanted?"

" _Just to share a meal with my son_." Malcolm said. " _Dinner tomorrow night_." It wasn't said in question form.

"I have plans."

" _Bring her along_." He said knowingly. " _I think it's time I got to know your girlfriend."_

"You must be slipping in your old age." Tommy remarked monotonic. "I don't have a girlfriend."

 _"Tommy, I've said some hurtful things and I regret them. But you're still my son and I am your father. I still want us to be close."_

Tommy exhaled sharply through clenched teeth. "I'll think about it." And he hung up, shoving his cell back into his pocket. "Have we made up?" he asked as he returned to the main area of the room. He got no answer. Oliver was back at the table, sharpening already sharp things and Diggle was at the punching bags. "Guess not."

...

"You two are acting like a bunch of two-year-olds!" Tommy cried in frustration. "What happened to the two of you being partners? Now, I might just be the sidekick, but even I know that this isn't partnership. This isn't some scuffle between two paintball players; people are being killed. So what's the _real_ plan, guys? No more coming from two different sides."

"I'm not just gonna let Oliver William Tell an innocent man." Diggle refused.

"I wasn't gonna kill him." Oliver replied. "And he isn't innocent."

"You have no proof, just a name in a sketchy notebook. A notebook you apparently trust more than me."

"The list hasn't been wrong yet."

"So what your really saying is that _I've_ let you down."

"No." Oliver shook his head. "I trust my father. And he explained to me that every name on the list has a reason to be there."

"That..." Tommy was confused. "I don't understand, Oliver. You told us Robert told you to right his wrongs then he killed himself. Are you saying that wasn't all?"

"A few years ago I found a message he left me explaining the list." Oliver said quietly.

"How is that possible?" Diggle questioned. "You were on a deserted island."

"I didn't say that I found it on the island."

Tommy opened his mouth but quickly shut it, pursing his lips. He still had so many questions, all unanswered. He had his suspicions, he would be stupid not to with what Oliver admitted sometimes, like just now, or learning to speak Russian (and his Russian friends a phone call away), the man (Yao Fei) who had taught him to fight. But he didn't want to push, force Oliver, he was sure his friend had more than enough of that. He wanted Oliver to open up to him on his own accord. So Tommy's plan was simple; stay and support.

Oliver closed his eyes briefly before he stared at his friend intently. "Diggle, for the past four months, I've lied to, hurt, and hid things from people I care about. Do you really think that I would do all this if I wasn't sure?"

"Look, Oliver—Gaynor isn't like all the other high rollers you've gone after. He's a trained soldier. _If_ he is guilty, the kind of scare tactics that you usually pull won't cut it." Diggle said earnestly. "Gaynor gave me a job into Blackhawk tonight. Let me prove that he's innocent."

"Diggle-"

"No." Diggle put a finger close to his chest. "You owe me this. It's the least you owe me." Oliver glowered.

Tommy exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. "That's settled, then, and agreed. Diggle will infiltrate Blackhawk, get proof either way. These guys are going to hit again soon as seems their MO. But not without backup."

"You?" Diggle looked at him.

Tommy gave a bark of laughter. "Hell no! I can handle a kitten, not trained soldiers. No; comms. I've been going through all the boxes and supplies down here, doing inventory. It's kind of nice to know what you're dealing with." He went over to the wall and opened one of the crates and pulled out a case, he brought he back over and put in on the table. "Two-way comms. Those little talkies you have are great, but a little inconvenient in the hands department, don't you think?" he patted the case but paused as he looked up and found the pair giving him looks. "What? I can multi-task, I have enough brain cells for that. While the two of you throw around macho grunts and growls... you have no idea how much I have on my plate. I'm like a friggin plate-spinner, I got like seven going." He heaved a sigh. "Now, it's passed my bedtime. This face might still look pretty when haggard, but that doesn't mean it's my preferred style. Somebody give me a ride."

 **X**

Tommy had been so stupid. He should have known better, but he had hoped that what Malcolm had said over the phone was a true desire. He should never had gone to dinner. But he'd let Laurel talk him into it when he met her for coffee. Maybe if he hadn't gone alone-

Tommy gave his head a little shake and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. His father's real agenda, as expected, was to have Tommy sign a document to shut down his mother's clinic in the Glades. But his mom loved that clinic, she poured her heart into it and left it to him in her will when she'd been killed. It was his now, and damned if he was going to let his father take that away, too.

And now he was late for Thea's 18th birthday bash. The teen had been nagging the whole family about getting a convertible, and of course he and Oliver knew that was exactly what Moira was getting her daughter. And Tommy really wanted to see her face when she realized.

He was blinded for a moment as sudden high beams flashed in his eyes as a convertible sped around the corner. He swerved and slammed the brakes with a cry. His vision cleared just long enough to see Thea's frightened expression through the windshield before she swerved away.

Tommy barely had thought to put Oliver's car in park at the side of the road where he'd swerved before he was tearing the seatbelt off and throwing open the door. Unlike him, Thea had swerved off the road and into the wood that lined it. His cell was already to him ear for an ambulance as he raced across the road.

"Thea! Thea!" he stumbled down the short bank to the driver's side. She was slumped forward against the steering, the airbag deployed. He resisted the urge to grab her shoulder and shake. No, he'd learned this, he knew this now. Dont move the body unless necessary in case of neck or spinal injury. The dispatcher on the line even told him so.

He couldn't reach her proper from this side, and struggled his way to the passenger side; not caring about the branches and thorns catching in his designer clothes. He climbed into the passenger seat and leaned across. He cut the engine. Her breathing seemed unhindered and the only injury he could see was blood at her hairline. He shoved the phone between his thighs.

He gasped in relief as her eyes fluttered. "Thea?" Her brow scrunched and she gave a small moan; but her eyes cracked. "Hey, hey—you're okay." His finger gently brushed her cheek, rousing her further along with his voice. "You were in an accident."

"T'mmy?" she mumbled, and started to push from the wheel.

"Easy, easy." He helped ease her back against the seat.

"I don't feel good," she mumbled, her head turned on the head rest towards him. Her pupils were blown. He didn't know if it was from a concussion or something else.

"Thea, have you been drinking?" he questioned. "Hey, hey." He put a hand on her cheek when her eyes started to droop closed. "You can't go asleep on me now, Speedy. Gotta stay awake. Now tell me... are you on something."

He got a pitiful moan in return. He sighed and reached for his cell to demand how much longer that ambulance was going to take. A green gleam from the footwell caught his attention and he bent forward. H came back with a dime bag with some green pills in it. "Thea," he cursed in worry and fear. He heard sirens finally and quickly shoved the baggy in his pocket. "It's gonna be okay, Thea. I promise."

He and Oliver were going to leave a trail if they had to.

 _f_

 **aRROW**


	12. Chapter 12: Vertigo

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 12 - "Vertigo"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy tries to split himself in half to be there for the Queen Siblings in light of Vertigo._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Vertigo"**

"The two of you need to slow down." Diggle told them clearly.

"Slow down?" Tommy repeated, incredulous for the both of them as Oliver took off his Hood. "That judge just basically announced his intention of sentencing Thea to prison, Diggle. And you want us to slow our roll? Not a chance!" he shook his head. He turned his back to Diggle and addressed Oliver, "While you were out, I got the location of some more dealer's corners."

Oliver nodded. "This last Vertigo dealer you found me, finally gave me a name. The Count. He's the creator and supplier of Vertigo. We find him, take him out before Thea's trial..."

"So you keep going after the dealers and they'll eventually lead us to the bastard." Tommy said, but Oliver shook his head.

"All these Vertigo pushers are so low level, that was why it took so long to even find one that knew this guy's name. No. We need to go higher up on the food chain,"

Tommy furrowed his brows. "You want to do a drug deal? Draw out The Count with the enticement of a lot of money. But how do you expect to do that? We don't know anyone other than the dealers."

"My Russian associates, the same who helped with finding out the identity of Deadshot." Oliver said. "They should be able to set up a meet with Mr. Count. This is just up their wheelhouse."

"I still don't get how you know the Russian mob." Tommy muttered, but if it could help Thea, it didn't matter.

Oliver looked over to his body guard. "Diggle, are you with us, or not?"

"I'm with you." Diggle gave a nod. "But just so you know, if I think you're starting to lose it, I'm not going to be still or quiet about it."

"Didn't expect you to."

 **X**

Tommy backed through the doorway with the loaded tray. "Hey, Speedy, I got-"

"She's having an affair with Tommy's dad—again—but you just refuse to see it. You think she's this saint, but she's not. She cheated on dad and now she's cheating on Walter-"

"What?!" Tommy exclaimed, stumbling as he whipped around when his feet weren't ready. Dinnerware clattered as the tray was destabilized. Soda sloshed onto his t-shirt, but he managed to save the tray and its contents. He quickly set it on the side table. "What did you say?" he repeated. Both Queen siblings were frozen. "Thea?"

Thea just shook her head, her lips tight. "I'm going to my room!" she spun for the other door.

"Thea!" Tommy bolted after her, leaping the low coffee table, and skidding into her way in the doorway. "Come on." He took her shoulders and steered her back to the couch.

"Tommy!" she protested as he pushed her down.

He sat in front of her on the coffee table, his legs encaging her own. If she wanted to get away, she was going to have to climb back over the couch. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?"

"Tommy, she doesn't know what she talking about." Oliver scrubbed a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Thea?" Tommy prompted.

Thea shrunk back against the couch, her hands fiddling in her lap. "Mom's sleeping with your dad. I saw them together. This isn't the first time either."

"You've seen them together? Kissing?"

"No. But I know what I saw!" she sat up and grabbed his hand.

Tommy was quiet, his eyes unfocused as Thea stared a him, pleading for him to believe her even as terrible was it was. "I think they did—once. A long time ago." He said quietly.

"You can't be serious?!" Oliver protested.

"But not now, Thea." Tommy swore, locking eyes. "I promise."

"How can you know?" she asked in a small voice.

"Trust me." He squeezed her knee. "I just do."

"Tommy-" Oliver was disbelieved.

Tommy looked across at him. "Don't you have that business meeting?" his gaze flickered pointedly at the teen. "You don't want to be late. Thea and I will be here, binge watching Orange is the New Black. She insisted, by executive rule." He chuckled and shifted himself on the couch next to Thea. "Text me when you're done to let me know how it went."

 **X**

"What the hell happened?" Tommy demanded as soon as Diggle busted through the South alley entrance of the lair carrying a very disoriented Hood. He had been with Thea when he got the 911 text from Diggle and had made it to the foundry scant minutes before the pair.

"The cops blew up the deal," Diggle grunted as he cleared a table and put Oliver on it. "Don't know how they knew about it, but The Count got away—just not before he injected Oliver with this crap. How's that magic potion coming, Merlyn?"

"Finished!" Tommy tossed aside the grinder and rushed over to the pair with the herb-mixed water. He swallowed his anxiety at seeing his friend in a state that was not dissimilar to when he'd been grazed with the curare bullet. "Okay, Ollie. Drink up," he leaned forward, one hand going behind Oliver's thrashing head, the other bring the cup forward—when suddenly, Oliver's hand was around his throat. The herb mixed water sloshed over his fingers as Tommy consciously tried to keep his hand steady even as Oliver choked him. The blue eyes looked _through_ him, not seeing him. "Oliver!" he chocked.

Diggle quickly lunged across the table and pried Oliver's fingers from his neck, pinning the blond's straining arms to his chest. Tommy sucked in a terrible breath through the lump in his throat, coughing lightly, but he quickly took advantage and made Oliver drink the island medicine.

When Oliver finished the drink, Tommy slumped back into a chair, the cup hanging loosely from his fingers.

"Alright, Merlyn?" Diggle took advantage of Oliver's stillness to handcuff him to the table.

"Yeah, I'm great." He cleared his throat. He got to his feet and put the herbs away. "So, what was it that Oliver got injected with?"

Diggle gave a last glance at Oliver, before he went over to Tommy and held out the double-syringe. "This."

Tommy took it; both tubes were half-filled with a clear brown liquid. "That looks like something I would willingly put into my body," he remarked sarcastically. "It's definitely not what they're selling on the corners." He picked up a baggie of Vertigo pills that had amassed while he been out looking for the dealers and held them side-by-side. "It must be another version of Vertigo, maybe its pure form before they make it into the pills." He put both down on the table and leaned against the edge.

"You ever try Vertigo?" Diggle asked curiously.

Tommy looked at him, crossing his arms. He shook his head. "No. Before my time. I stopped doing that stuff a few years ago. After Ollie 'died' I kind of went hard. There were some close-calls, things got out of hand. I stopped more for Thea's sake than my own in the beginning." He sighed. "Oliver was out all night last time; it's going to be a long one."

...

Oliver lurched into a seated position on the table with a low grown. "Got the key?" he tugged his cuffed wrist. "I'm not going to kill you," Oliver promised.

"It's not me I was worried about." Diggle muttered.

Before Oliver could question what he meant, Tommy spoke up. "Looks like Sleeping Beauty's awake!" he smiled and approached with the key to the cuffs, springing his friend. "How ya feeling, buddy?"

"I feel like I'm getting over the worst hangover of my life." He complained, rubbing at his wrist.

"Must be strong stuff if that's coming from a guy who spent most of his twenties in a hangover." Diggle remarked with dry humour.

"Yeah, well, I couldn't drink for five-years and I haven't touched the stuff since I've been back." Tommy offered him a bottle of water, and he drained it thirstily. "Please tell me the SCPD managed to arrest The Count after all the effort they put into screwing up our plan?"

"Not a chance. Bugger managed to slip away." Diggle told him. "But we got that Vertigo he managed to dose you with, luckily it wasn't a full dose otherwise we'd be planning your funeral for real right now."

"Speaking of that... are you sure you're okay?" Tommy asked. "You look like shit warmed over."

Oliver rubbed a hand over his face. "I just got dosed with years worth of Vertigo in one sitting, the herbs counteracted against it—I'm basically in withdrawal right now." He shivered.

"So, what's the plan for this stuff?" Diggle gestured at the liquid Vertigo on the table.

"Felicity." Oliver said determinedly, straightening. "We analyze the Vertigo. It's in liquid form so it contains water. Maybe we can trace that back to where in the city The Count is ... cooking up this garbage." He stepped from the table that had been taking his weight, and stumbled as if drunk.

Tommy caught his elbow. "Maybe _I_ should go see Felicity," he suggested. "You should head home. And if not to sleep," he predicted his friend's protestations, "Then maybe see if Laurel was able to come through with that favour."

"Okay," Oliver finally agreed gruffly. "Where's my shirt?"

"What we really should be doing is getting you to a hospital." Diggle tossed it over and Oliver barely managed to catch it. "God knows what he injected you with, Oliver."

"Like a newborn babe." Tommy chuckled as Oliver struggled, if very briefly, with his shirt; he got a glower in return as his head came through the neck-hole.

...

"Hey," Felicity said softly when she saw him. "I saw the news. Oliver's sister… How are you guys doing?"

"Hi." He gave her a small smile. "Okay, considering. We're working on it."

She nodded. "If I can do anything..." she offered him sincerely.

"Actually... I need a big favour." She raised a curious brow and he pulled out the double syringe.

"What the heck is that?" she baulked.

He inhaled deeply—and decided to give her at least 75% of the truth (things like Oliver being The Hood and a part of the Russian mob redacted for everyone's safety) instead of lying utterly. "It's Vertigo."

"Excuse me?!" she took a step back and pointed. "Why do you have that and why does it look like that?"

"Oliver and I tried to do a sting of sorts get to get The Count to reveal himself, you know, like a drug deal you see in the movies, and then call the cops. But things didn't really go as planned and he got away, but we managed to get this." He gestured the needles. "I was wondering if you could analyze and find out where it came from. Can you help us?"

She squinted at him for a moment, before she nodded. "Okay." She took it tenderly, like it might bite her—or more acurately, poison her. "I'll see what I can do."

...

"That was close." Oliver admitted when he returned to the lair. "I ran into Lance."

"What about The Count?" Tommy asked. "Did you... kill him before Lance got there?"

"No. He'll just wish I killed him."

"Scary." Tommy muttered.

Oliver's cell rang. He furrowed his brows at the caller I.D. "Felicity?" he answered. "Now? | Sure. | Do you want Tommy, too, or just me? | Yeah. Alright. | I'm sure his feelings will heal. | I'll meet you in thirty. Bye."

"I am not jealous or with hurt feelings," Tommy denied mockingly. "What did she want?"

"I don't know. Just to meet a BBB and that it was important." Oliver shrugged. "I'll see you guys later."

 _f_

 **aRROW**


	13. Chapter 13: Betrayal

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 13 - "Betrayal"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy and Diggle go behind Oliver's back to look into Moira's involvement with the list, when Tommy gets himself into trouble when he goes to Laurel's call._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Betrayal"**

"So I was right," Tommy mumbled, his thoughts stretched a thousand miles away. "Walter's disappearance _did_ have to do with the list."

"You're telling us Felicity had this all this time?" Diggle asked, flipping through the notebook. "It looks the same as your list."

"It's identical. I checked." Oliver said, leaning back against the table. "It even has _more_ names than mine. I was tearing out pages for kindling for fire on the island before the heat cooked the invisible ink and made it visible."

"Merlyn?" Diggle held the book out.

Tommy took it into his lap, his thumb running up and down the edge of the cover. "Did you tell her you're The Hood?"

"What?" Oliver was surprised by the question. "Of course not."

Tommy looked up at him. "That wasn't why she decided to bring this to you? Because she suspected that you might be The Hood?"

Oliver shook her head. "She said that even though I told her terrible lies, she felt that she could still trust me and that at least _someone else_ should know about Walter."

"She tell you how Walter got a hold of it?" Diggle wondered.

"She said Walter found it in their bedroom." Oliver responded quietly.

That tidbit woke Tommy up from his circling thoughts. He gave his head a little shake. "As in this is _Moira's_ notebook?" he stood and approached his friend, holding up the notebook.

"And now he's missing." Diggle filled in the blank.

Oliver took the notebook and stowed in back into his back pocket. "She's my mother. She's not the kind of person who would-"

"Have her husband disappear? Because that's really the question." Diggle stood, too. "I understand why you would want to believe your mother over your step-father, Oliver, but _I_ tend to believe that the innocent party is whoever's missing and presumed dead."

"Diggle's right, Oliver." Tommy implored. "This isn't something you can just ignore. Robert had a notebook on the yacht with him, maybe this is just his extra copy if something happened to the one he had—or maybe she knows what Robert was into and that's _her_ copy." He blew out his cheeks when he didn't get the response he was looking for—any response, really. "Did Felicity tell you what she was looking at?"

"No."

"She came to you with a copy of the notebook your father gave you before he killed himself, which Walter found in your mother's bedroom, and is now connected to Walter's disappearance... and you don't try and get all the information you can? You're in complete denial, Ollie!"

Oliver looked at his best-friend for a long moment before he acceded, "I'll talk to her in the morning."

...

 _thwack! thwack!_ It was a steady, spaced rhythm. Mostly interspersed with clangs, clatters, and knocks. _thwack! thwack!_ Tommy continued until the soft kit was laid empty, and the target board was crowded with lethal throwing knives.

"She burned it and that doesn't strike you as suspicious?" Diggle threw his hands up, incredulous and frustrated at the blond.

Tommy approached the board in the workout area as Oliver and Diggle continued to argue Moira Queen and the matter of the copied (now ashes) notebook.

"She was scared. She's just trying to protect Thea and I." Oliver defended his mother. "All she knows it that that was the thing that took Walter away because he was asking questions."

"Or her own." Diggle persisted. "You said it yourself, Oliver, whoever compiled the list is involved in something dangerous. If your mother is lying-"

"She's not. I saw her. She didn't know any of the names."

"No offence, Oliver, but why would she tell you that she did in the first place? Because you asked nicely? She'll tell you she knows you, too, but you lie to her everyday." He played devil's advocate. "She told you that she didn't. You don't have to take her word for it. If this was anybody else, you'd be Hooded-up and on your way to an arrow-side chat with them."

"But this isn't anybody else!" Oliver fisted his hands, stepping forward. "This is my mother. And I know her."

Tommy was really considering stepping in, because if these two actually started to trade blows, he was sure he wouldn't be able to stop it until they decided punching each other was not a fun idea. And with the charged emotions in the lair right now, he didn't think it would be a fast realization—but he was saved by the cell.

They all three paused and turned towards the unfamiliar ring that came from none of their own.

"Isn't that-" Diggle started.

"The Hoodphone." Tommy finished.

"Lance?" Diggle asked as Oliver picked up the phone, their previous conversation on hold, or in Oliver's opinion, finished.

"He gave it to Laurel." Oliver said shortly before he answered the cell. "Hello?"

"That went as great as it did last night." Tommy remarked quietly to the body guard.

"Yeah. Words won't make an impact with Oliver, not this time."

"Does that mean you have a plan?" Tommy wondered.

"If Oliver isn't going to do anything about this, then we have to." Diggle said.

"You mean go behind his back."

"You've seen him, Merlyn. He's not going to accept anything without evidence."

"And if there isn't any?"

"Then he should be glad that we proved Mrs. Queen has no involvement in this."

"Laurel needs my help," Oliver turned to them. "I have work to do." He stowed the cell.

"Oliver, you running to help Laurel or away from the truth about your mother?"

Oliver said nothing, his face stone as he grabbed his Hood and gear, leaving via the South alley entrance.

Tommy sighed, going to the table and unloading his sharp load. He started to fill the cloth slots.

"Where'd you even get these?" Diggle asked, picking up one of the knives and testing it with hand-tosses. "They don't look like Oliver's."

"Amazon. com." Tommy said seriously, managing to snatch the knife out of the air without cutting his fingers off. "I've always been good at darts, thought I'd try something a little more... practical in a dangerous situation." Diggle just nodded, turning to lean against the table, his arms crossed over his chest. "So, what exactly is your plan?"

Diggle smacked his lips. "A conveniently sickened driver; it won't be suspicious if I offer to fill in for a few days. That way I can keep track of Mrs. Queen's movements and see if she meets with anyone interesting. After Oliver showed her the notebook, if she's involved in this, there'll be some movement."

"I'm afraid to ask what you're going to do to her usual driver." Tommy muttered.

He gave a small chuckle. "You, Merlyn?"

"I'll go and see Felicity." He rolled the kit and knotted the strap.

"Mixing pleasure with business?" Diggle smirked.

"There's nothing pleasing about going behind Oliver's back,"

"We need to know either way, Tommy." He clapped the man on the back. "At least this way we won't be making Oliver spy on his own mother."

 **X**

"Hey," Tommy shut the office door behind him.

"Hey," Felicity said nervously.

Tommy just cut to the chase at the sight of her guilty-conscious leaking out. "Oliver told me about the other night."

"Of course. I mean of course he did; you're childhood best-friends, you're brothers. Well, not... _brothers_ but _like_ brothers-"

"Felicity," his hand on her shoulder had her withdrawing from the ramble and taking a deep breath. "You kind of freaked him out a little, but he wanted me to ask if I could get the stuff you found?"

She was worried to give it to him, seeing as this appeared to be the same information that got Walter missing, but he convinced her that Walter must have accidentally tipped someone of his investigation and no one seemed to know of her involvement and would have no clue of his. She agreed to have it all for him by morning.

...

Tommy was just leaving QC from talking to Felicity and convincing her to give him the information she had dug up on Walter's behalf, when he got a steaming call from Laurel asking him to come over.

She wasn't pissed at him; they'd been getting along great after the break-up. No, Oliver said that he was going to meet Laurel as The Hood to handoff what information he was able to get against Cyrus Vanch. Something must have gone awry (not that Diggle or Oliver bothered to call him) and she wanted someone to vent to.

"This should be interesting," he thought to himself.

And he was right. But it wasn't The Hood she wanted to rage about, it was her dad. Twist! Apparently, Lance had bugged The Hoodphone and set up a sting; she'd ended up in the crosshairs of a dozen guns and Oliver almost didn't get out of there. He was definitely going to chew out Oliver and Diggle for not calling him!

"You've been working with the vigilante?" he asked, acting surprised because he wasn't supposed to know. For the first time he knew what Oliver felt when he had to lie to his family's faces. "No wonder your dad went ballistic!"

She looked a little guilty as she admitted, "He contacted me before. He helped me with Joanna's arson investigation and the Declan case."

"The Declan case was months ago." Tommy said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not really something I want to announce to the world. It could end my career." She defended. "And if it hadn't been for The Hood, Declan and I would have been killed."

"I thought you said he was a cold-blooded killer without remorse?" he was confused.

"What else was I supposed to say to my father, you know how he is."

"I do. But still, Laurel-"

"Oh, Tommy! Please, not you too!" she protested.

"Look, not me, too." He corrected. "I think The Hood is actually helping this city. The things he's helped you with, and it was because of him that The Count got put away and helped save Thea from jail."

"Wow," Laurel looked at him in amazement. "I honestly didn't think you'd react this way."

"Oliver calls him crazy and a killer; don't listen to him, he doesn't know what he's talking about." He always wondered if he would have thought that same, did he not know that it was his best-friend under that Hood. "I'll convert him," Tommy said. "I think The Hood is a hero." He took her hand in his, "But are you sure it's a good idea to get involved with him? Even if he doesn't mean you harm, he has enemies and is surrounded by danger." He asked in genuine concern. "Didn't this thing with you dad just prove that?"

"I only contacted him when I was desperate and didn't have any alternative." She explained. But then she glowered in annoyance, "But dad took the phone back. There's no way for me to get into contact with him now unless he comes to me like he did with Declan."

"Maybe it's for the best?" Tommy suggested.

Laurel sighed. "You hungry? Sorry I dragged you over here. Take-out?"

He grinned. "Food always works on me, you know that."

...

Tommy was just zipping his jeans when he heard the muffled sound of a knock at the door. But as he flushed and turned to the sink, he heard the sounds that were decidedly not of Laurel paying for the food—but a fight. He quickly sent a 9-1-1 Team Hood and quickly looked for a weapon. He forewent the plunger by the toilet and cracked the bathroom door.

"Tommy!" Laurel's cut-off shout put him into gear.

Tommy grabbed a sculpture from the shelve and crept forward. He could see Laurel's feet peeking out into the hall from the kitchen. And he could see Vanch standing over her.

"Love a girl who can take care of herself. But you can't block a Taser." Vanch chuckled.

Tommy resisted the urge to call out Laurel's name, he barely breathed, his socked feet silent on the wood floor. He got close as he possibly could to the turned back, but he must have made a nose or something because as he swung down, Vanch moved—and instead of cracking him in the back of the head, the sculpture smashed across the back of his shoulder.

Vanch grunted and stumbled into the corner of the wall and Tommy was already turning to grab the flower vase from the side table when Vanch donkey-kicked, striking Tommy in the side. He stumbled back, his heel coming down on the umbrella Laurel had grabbed from the holder by the door when Vanch's thugs barged in. Tommy barely managed to catch himself on the door.

Vanch straightened and turned, dusting his shoulder. "Oh! So the lawyer got herself a Boy Toy, huh?"

Tommy ignored the name and his eyes flickered to the Taser Vanch had. Diggle had been teaching him how to disarm a gun pointed into his face, but a Taser was a completely different story. He couldn't just grab it, it was like a live-wire. He needed to knock it out of hand.

"You were already pushing you luck when you stepped foot out of Iron Heights. Now, he's going to kill you." Tommy promised while his gaze subtly flickered around his surrounding for a weapon. What he needed was that umbrella.

"Ah! But see, I'm counting on _him_ making an appearance. What do you think this whole charade is for?" he waved the Taser.

Tommy made a feint for the umbrella that lay between them, but reached for the coat rack next to him. Vanch read the move for what it was and was ready forthe swing, Tommy cursed. Vanch moved in, fast like a viper, but he didn't use the Taser, but he punched Tommy in the face.

Tommy dropped the coat rack and managed to get his arm up and deflected the next punch, striking Vanch in the ribs with his other hand. Vanch grunted lightly at the impact, but used the inward deflection to throw his elbow in the game and Tommy's nose.

Tommy managed a good hit or two more before Vanch knocked him on his ass.

"Not just a pretty face!" he laughed. "Can't have two hostages, only came for the one." He pulled out a knife. "Sorry, sweet cheeks. Hold on a minute!" he looked at Tommy closely. "You're not just a nobody, are you? The vigilante's saved you, too, hasn't he? His very first appearance. Hmm. It's your lucky day, kid. I guess I will take a double, please." He grinned.

Laurel took out two guys and he couldn't even take out this one? Then all he saw was the crackling electricity before the pain and darkness.

...

Tommy gave a small groan; he was in a very uncomfortable position. His shoulders were strained, there was something sharp biting into his wrists, and something hard pressed the small of his back.

"Tommy!" Laurel shouted.

"Mm!" he tried to speak, but his lips were hindered.

"Ah, finally awake." Tommy's eyes snapped open at Vanch's voice. "I was worried there for a minute. I was a bit liberal with the Taser."

"You're a bastard!" Laurel cursed him, tied in comfort to a kitchen chair. Tommy was relieved to see she looked otherwise unharmed. "Assault with intent. Kidnapping. Two counts. You're going to rot in prison for life this time." Tommy was not in a very fun position himself; his hands cuffed above and behind him his head to a kitchen cupboard, the counter edge digging into the small of his back—it was not very comfortable.

Vanch laughed at the threat. "That's assuming your Hooded BFF saves you. Does your Arm Candy here know of your extra curricular activities?"

"You have no idea who you're messing with, Vanch." Laurel warned.

"Mm-mm mm-mm-mmph!" Tommy's muffled words were cut off with a cry as Vanch ripped the duct tape away without warning.

He leaned nonchalantly on the counter beside Tommy. "You were saying?"

"You should listen to her." Tommy said. "She knows what she's talking about. She put you away once, she's going to again. You're just giving her a golden ticket. And when he does come, you're going to wish you stayed in prison."

"On the contrary. I know exactly who I'm messing with." He wagged a finger. "See, I didn't just dive into this hands-free, I watched every single broadcast made about Starling City's Vigilante, The Hood. And his chances of survival are not so great. He's going up against trained men with their fingers on the trigger of guns that fire up to 600 rounds per minute. Now I'm no Einstein but that's a lot of bullets. Even if he were to take them out, I have two sharpshooters on the roof. And even if he get by _them,_ what is he going to do against the veritable army of sons of bitches I got waiting for him?

"Now, as I said, I'm no Einstein, but I can count to 24. 24 is the exact number of arrows he carries in his quiver and flechettes around his forearm. So, you were saying?" he cupped a hand mockingly behind his ear.

Tommy glared, because shit! This guy was not screwing around. But Tommy knew something that nobody else did—The Hood didn't work alone.

"Oh, come on, you two!" Vanch took out his knife. "Why so sullen? It's not as if you're about to die." He laughed. "Any last words? No deathbed confessions?" silence answered him and he twirled the knife. "All right, how about a bet? What do you think, Lover Boy? Who is it that he's really coming for, hmm? Her?" he gestured the knife at Laurel. "I mean, he's working with her now, isn't he? But you... he came out for you. His whole crusade started with you. I say we end it with you, too. What do you say, Prince?" Vanch pressed the knife tip against his ribs, slowly adding pressure.

"Stop it!" Laurel shouted just as The Hood was lead into the mansion behind her, his quiver empty and bow raised above his head, three gunman with guns at his back.

Vanch grinned at the sight. "Finally! I was starting to think you didn't care. What say you, Hood? If you could save only one, who would you choose, who would you sacrifice? Any parting words for Lover Boy?"

Oliver stayed silent and the best-friends locked eyes under the Hood. Tommy spoke on his behalf, "And you must not have gotten the memo." Tommy replied. "The Hood doesn't work alone."

Everything happened fast then slow. There were gunshots and the three gunman dropped from Diggle's well-aimed shots (out of view). Vanch's blade was at Tommy's carotid, there was a scream (Laurel), and suddenly the entire side of Tommy's face was covered in warm blood.

"Tommy!" Laurel cried, straining against the rope.

Tommy turned to look at Vanch and found his kidnapper, almost killer with a flechette sticking out of his throat before he dropped to the floor at Tommy's feet, dead. Tommy heaved a huge, shuddering breath.

Oliver was suddenly in front of him, reaching above to unlock the handcuffs. "Tommy?" he asked urgently, quietly.

"I'm okay." Tommy whispered the promise. "Go."

Oliver gave a minuscule nod. "The police are on their way." And then he was gone.

Tommy put his arms down, rolling his strained shoulders as he rubbed his face against his sleeve, wiping the blood away. He bent and grabbed Vanch's knife and quickly cut Laurel free.

"Are you okay?" she demanded, hugging him hard. "I thought he was going to kill you!"

"I'm okay," he said into her hair, dropping the knife and holding her tight. "He didn't do anything to you while I was out?"

Laurel shook her head against his chest. "No." She finally pulled back. "You were right. Being associated with The Hood is dangerous; you could have been killed. My dad was right to take the phone back."

Tommy just hugged her again as they heard the sirens. This was not going to be fun.

 **X**

"Tommy, what are you doing back here?" Oliver demanded in worry, looking up from his arrows as he heard someone else enter the lair; he'd been expecting Diggle. "You should be at the mansion resting."

"It's just a few cuts, nothing serious." He dragged the computer chair over to the table and sat in it with an exhale. The strained muscles in his shoulders and back felt the worst of it.

"He nearly killed you!" Oliver protested. "If I'd been a second slower-" he couldn't finish the rest.

"But you weren't." Tommy squeezed his shoulder. "I'm three for three. Kidnapped three times, rescues by you three times."

Oliver tensed under his hand for a split second. "What do you mean, kidnapped three times, Tommy?"

"Tonight with Vanch. When we were both kidnapped after you got home." Tommy gave him a penetrating stare, "And about two years ago... in Hong Kong." It had come to him when he heard Oliver's Hood-voice without the modulator for the first time.

Oliver just shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Tommy." He stood.

"Oliver, please. Just tell me something, anything." Tommy pleaded. "I haven't demanded to know, I've just been doing everything I can to be there for you, support your need for this crusade. I believe in you, Oliver, but you can't keep doing this. Keeping yourself locked away. Keeping everything to yourself. It's not healthy."

"And what if I tell you and you decide this is the thing that broke the camel's back?"

"You spent time on an island where you were tortured and learned to fight. You killed to protect yourself. You're a captain in the Bratva and speak Russian. You were in Hong Kong, weren't you Oliver?"

Tight lipped, Oliver nodded.

Tommy's heart picked up at the silent admission. "How? Why? Why didn't you come home?"

"I did what I did to protect you, Tommy, you have to believe that." He begged his friend to understand. "They were going to kill you if I hadn't made you stop asking questions."

"I believe you," he swore. "But who are 'they'?"

Oliver shoved his fingers roughly through his hair as he paced in front of his best-friend. "They rescued me from the island. They're a dark-ops free-agency. A.R.G.U.S. Those men on the island, the ones that tortured me, they worked for A.R.G.U.S. She threatened to kill my family if I didn't work for her as an agent."

"Okay." Tommy said quietly after a long moment.

Oliver stopped pacing and stared. "Okay? That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Were you expecting something else?"

"Yeah. I just told you I was conscripted into a shady agency and did unspeakable things, and all you have to say is: okay?"

Tommy stood and went over to him. "I already know you've killed people, Oliver. You just did it two hours ago right in front of me! If that hasn't changed my mind about you when I first confronted you about The Hood, why would you think it would now?"

"Because you have no idea-"

"Did you kill innocent people?"

"Yes," his voice cracked over the admittance.

"Did you _want_ to? Or did you _have_ to? Did you have _no other_ choice?" Tommy continued. "Were they caught in the crossfire?"

"Their blood is still on my hands." He looked away.

Tommy grabbed his best-friend's hands without any hesitation. "These hands have saved my life, more times than I can count. They've saved Laurel's. They've saved countless others in this city. You can do the right thing, and bad things can still happen. You've wounded me with these hands, but I still trust them. These hands can harm, but only in the defence of self and others. _That_ 's what matters, Oliver. Blood is on your hands so it doesn't have to be on others. I believe in you. Don't know if that helps, but it's true."

"A lot," Oliver chocked. "It helps more than you can know."

"Good." Tommy nodded. Then gave a small smirk, "Let's keep holding hands, it's not weird."

Oliver gave a watery snort, but he pulled his hands from Tommy's only to hug the other man. "I almost did this in front of Laurel. I'm so glad you're okay."

"Me, too." he chuckled, squeezing back. "And that would have been a bitch to explain,"

"Sorry to interrupt," Diggle walked in, and the pair parted, "I know it's been a long night, but there's something you guys need to hear." He held out a small recorder and pressed play. Moira's voice was instantly recognizable.

Anger flared in Oliver's eyes. "You bugged my mother?" he growled.

"Just listen," and he played the rest of the recording.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _I was conflicted with what to do with Tommy in this episode in consideration of his involvement in the Vanch Case. i.e. Finding the recording and going to Lance about Laurel's kidnapping. Of course, now that Tommy Know's Oliver is The Hood, he wouldn't go to Lance, but Oliver [and he and Diggle would have gone with The Hood to_ _rescue_ _Laurel]. But then I also had a few other ways to swing it:_

 _Like Tommy walking in on the kidnapping, getting knocked out or wounded and left behind; Tommy taking out Vanch before he could take Laurel;_ — _but then I remember that Vanch went through all the footage about The Hood and would have seen the kidnapping of Oliver and Tommy and that was what I decided to go with._

 _Tell me what you think. Did you like what I decided to go with, or would you have_ _preferred_ _to see one of the other scenario? Review?_

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

"I went to see her. She gave me all the stuff she was looking into for Walter. I've got financial statements of the money she transferred to a shell company, and this warehouse. I think you should check it out."

"That's not the priority right now, it can hold. Vanch is the immediate threat right now."

"Oliver, there's been nothing in connection with Walter for over two months and now that there is, it's like you're not even interested."

...

"They're convenient, even if you don't smoke recreationally."

x


	14. Chapter 14: Odyssey

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 14 - "Odyssey"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Oliver's shot, Felicity's in the lair, and Tommy tries to keep it all together._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Odyssey"**

"It's been an hour, where is he?" Tommy demanded as he paced.

"He just found out his mother knew his father's yacht had been sabotaged and told no one." Diggle pointed out from where he sat at he computer monitors. "He needs a minute to process."

"Yeah? And he needs his thinking-Hood to do it, does he? He just grabbed his Hood and left, this is not 'needing a minute to process'." Tommy air-quoted mockingly. "This is Oliver going to do something stupid because he's angry and confused; he's always been like this. But now, it's not getting drunk and pissing on a cop car. No, now he has arrows and Ninja skills."

"I think he has more control than that," he reasoned.

"He didn't take a comm. either!" Tommy bemoaned. "When I get my hands on it, I'm sewing a comm. into his Hood."

"Do you even know how to sew?" Diggle wondered in amusement.

"I'm learning," he said distractedly. Diggle gave him an odd look. "I'll put a tracking device in his boot, too. That'll show him."

"I don't think he'll appreciate that."

"It's gonna happen whether he likes it or not." Tommy growled determinedly. "He can't just run off like that!"

"He's a grown man, he can take care of himself." Diggle remarked. "You need to take a chill pill, Merlyn."

"I did, thank you very much. The hospital gave me some, but it chills the body, not the soul."

" **Breaking News** _!"_ one of the monitors lit up with a Hood alert and both men turned their attention to the screen. " _So far the police are unwilling to comment but_ _unsubstantiated_ _eyewitness reports claim the Starling City Vigilante attacked Mrs. Queen in her office earlier tonight. She was unharmed in the_ _assault_ _."_

"What did I tell you?!" Tommy exclaimed. "He went and did something stupid, Diggle!"

"Hello?"

Both men spun, Diggle drawing a gun on the intruder.

"Felicity?" Tommy blurted in confusion. But it was her shocked appearance, and blood-soaked sweater that kicked him into action. "Are you okay?" he rushed over to her.

"Fine, fine." She said. "But Oliver... he's really heavy. And there's blood all over my seats."

"What?"

"Where's your car?" Diggle asked hurriedly.

"I parked it out back, by the loading dock. I didn't think it would be a good idea to park out front..." Felicity trailed off and ran after them through the secret South entrance. She quickly pressed the electric fob, unlocking the doors.

"You locked them?" Tommy asked as he took hold of Oliver's legs and Diggle his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, but I've never been in this kind of situation before!" she rushed after them; Oliver didn't even make a sound of pain at the handling, he was completely out. "What if someone tried to... steal him?"

The question was so absurd, the situation so frightening, Tommy could even find it in him to react. They quickly set Oliver on the wheeled light table, stripping him of his Hood.

"How bad is it?" Tommy asked as he quickly pulled over a a legit medical trolley.

Diggle was bent over the wound at Oliver's left clavicle. He exhaled in relief. "It just missed his carotid, but he's still losing a lot of blood." He took the clean towel Tommy paced him and pressed it to the would. "The bullets still in there, we gotta get it out."

"I should have taken him to the hospital," Felicity panicked.

"No, he's right here where he needs to be." Diggle told her.

"The hospital would ask too many questions and are legally obligated to call the police for gunshot wounds." Tommy sorted through the labelled drawers for the needed medical tools, silently muttering through his mental checklist. "You did the right thing, Felicity. You did what he asked."

"Merlyn-"

"Right here," Tommy pulled over the tray. "Felicity, we need your hands."

"What? Um..." she froze at the request.

"Now, please!" Tommy quickly pulled her over. "Pressure here, just like Diggle was doing."

"Okay, okay." Her hands quickly replaced Diggle's.

Diggle quickly cleaned his hands of blood and quickly sorted through the tools, as Tommy hooked Oliver up to the provided heart monitor; its pace was fast.

"Do you guys know what you're doing?" Felicity asked, watching the flurry of movement.

"I had some medical training in the Army, I just hope its enough." Diggle said. He glanced at the general manager and was about to speak up as Tommy hung the blood on the slotted pole at the head of the table, but stopped as he watched Tommy insert the needle into Oliver's arm like a pro.

The men quickly snapped on a pair of latex gloves. "Okay, Felicity, let's see what we're dealing with." Diggle said.

...

"Where the hell did you learn to stitch like that?" Diggle wondered, watching as Tommy sniped the surgical thread. He patted the wound with a pad soaked with iodine and taped a bandage over the wound. "In fact, how did you know what tools I needed or how to do an I.V.?"

"Considering that in the span of the same day you and Oliver had been shot with a poison-laced bullet and I was a freaking, panicked mess that was completely useless?" Tommy filled in with a self-deprecating tone. "I've been taking classes at Starling U. for Advanced First Aid for months now."

Diggle looked impressed. "When did you find the time to do that?"

"Plate-spinner, Diggle." Tommy reminded. He tossed the latex gloves and turned to Felicity who was sitting quiet in her own head on a stool. "How ya doing over there, Felicity?"

She blinked several times as she was drawn out by his voice. "I always wondered what I would do if I found my boss shot in my backseat. Not that I think about finding Mr. Queen in my backseat, shot or otherwise! I'd like to think I would help anyone shot and bleeding in my car."

"Hey," Tommy sat on the stool next to her. He put a hand on her knee and turned her to face him. "You did good, really good for someone who found The Hood bleeding in her car and whose true identity was Oliver Queen. Definitely a lot less yelling than I did and punching than Diggle did."

"I was right." She said.

"What?" he gave his head a shake of confusion.

"He does tell you everything."

Tommy gave an awkward hum. "Tells me most things, at least."

"I thought you'd be more freaked out than this, too." Diggle said. He approached the pair and handed Felicity a cold bottle of water. "You never called it?"

"I'm not saying that." She shook her head and took a drink. "But some of the things you guys brought me... hairy doesn't begin to cover it. Bullet-riddled laptops? High-security fobs? Black arrows? And don't forget the terrible lies." She pointed at Tommy with narrowed eyes, "Do you have another friend named Steve?"

Tommy chuckled in surprise at the question. "I'm sure somewhere out there in the world, their is an Oliver, Tommy, and Steve friendship happening."

She quirked a small smile at that. "Now that I know, I disappointed in myself that I never made that final connection. In context, it seems as obvious as the sun. No one can not change after five-years on a deserted island. I mean, how else would he have hunted for food but with a bow and arrows. Duh!"

"You thought about this a lot, huh?" Tommy teased.

"Mmmmmm," she drew it out. "Maybe. But it's not like other people haven't wondered either. I mean, it's a mystery—I hate mysteries; they need to be solved."

"You must hate Oliver then." Diggle said.

"What? Of course I don't! I don't know him enough to hate him, not that I would hate him if I knew him better. At least I would like to think so."

"I was only joking," Diggle was amused, "But I think he'll find that reassuring."

"He's easy to hate, hard to love... but once you do, you can't rid of the guy." Tommy said.

They all jumped at the beeping screech. Diggle rushed over to Oliver, checking the monitor. "He's flat-lining!"

Tommy swung around the defibrillator. "Watch out!" he called, pressing the switch and turning the dial.

"Please tell me you know how to use those." Diggle said as he put the pads on Oliver's upper right chest and his lower left abdomen.

"One of the first lessons." Tommy took Diggle's place and pressed the paddles to the pads.

"You're supposed to say clear!" Felicity blurted on the other side of the table, her hands at her mouth.

Tommy's eyes flickered to her and he called, "Clear!" and pressed the buttons. Oliver's chest arched slightly as his muscles tightened with the brief intense electrical shock. "Anything?" he asked, raising the paddles.

"N- Yeah! Yeah, we got him back!" Diggle let out a gust of relief, watching the steady peaks on the monitor.

Tommy let out his own shaky breath, turning off the defibrillator and putting the paddles back in their cradles. "I've never done that on a real person before!"

"You gotta start somewhere," Diggle clapped him on the back.

"Yeah, I just didn't think it would be my best-friend." Tommy said, staring down at his unconscious friend. "Don't think you can die on my now." He whispered. "I wasn't able to do anything before, but I sure as hell can now." He was startled when Felicity was suddenly in front of him, arms around his waist. "Hey, hey. You okay? He's going to be fine, he's made of tough stuff. You're shaking." His arms curled around her back.

She shook her head, her cheek against his chest. "That's you," she whispered.

He raised his hand behind her head and watched it tremble. "Huh." He laid it back flat center her back.

Her own hands fisted in the material of his shirt. "He's going to be fine," she whispered the words at him. "He's made of tough stuff. I mean, he takes abs-of-steel to a whole new level."

He gave a slightly choked chuckle. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

"For what?"

"For being brave and bringing him here, not knowing what you were going to find. For not calling the cops instead. For caring. For staying. For being my friend."

"That's a lot of things," she remarked.

"You're an incredible person, Felicity."

"I was just being myself."

"And that's the most amazing thing of all."

She pulled back slightly and looked at up at him. "What happened?" she asked, her hand coming up and finger tips gently touching his bruised cheek, looking at the split on the bridge of his nose, the cut on his neck.

"Got into a bit of a fight." He admitted in a low voice. "Earlier tonight, or should I say last night, now? Laurel and I were kidnapped."

She just realized what position they were in and was about to jump back, her face the colour of tomato, when his words registered in her brain, and everything else was thrown out. "What? What do you mean you were kidnapped?" she demanded. "What? Is she okay? Are you okay?"

"Laurel was only Tasered." Tommy assured her. "She's fine. Her dad's probably sleeping on her couch right now, keeping an eye on her."

"And you?"

"Just surface damage. Oliver stopped him before it could get beyond that."

"You mean he killed..." she stepped back.

He grasped her forearms gently. "He didn't have a choice. It was either me or him. Are you okay? I know it's a lot to take in."

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I think. Dig has help put some thing into perspective."

"He has?" Tommy was surprised. "When did he have time to do that?"

"Plate-spinning!" Diggle called in jest. "You were completely zoned out when you were sewing Oliver up."

"Oh, well then, that saves me the work." He smiled. "Hey, while I have you," he said, "Maybe you can help me with something." He went to the foot of the table and started to unlace Oliver's boot.

"I'm not sorry to say that I don't have a foot-fetish." Felicity said. "What are you doing?"

"Oliver ran off without telling us anything and got himself shot," Tommy pried a boot off without jostling the patient. "So, while he's out I'm going to put a tracker in his boot. You know tech-y-things, help me out?" the other came away.

"Tech-y-things." She repeated. She glanced back at Oliver before looking at Tommy. "Sure."

Tommy grinned. "You're definitely more reasonable than Diggle."

"Just wait until he finds out!" Diggle called over to them.

"Don't tell him and he won't."

...

"Looks like I didn't die, that's good news."

Diggle and Tommy both started at the unexpectedness of Oliver's voice, but Felicity let out a little scream and was left gasping, hand clenched over her heart from where she was working at the computer hub.

"Felicity." Oliver looked over at her as he sat up against both Diggle and Tommy's insistence.

"Sorry, sorry. You just scared me. I wasn't expecting that. Just ignore me." She turned back in her chair.

Oliver opened his mouth for further questions when Diggle appeared at his side. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was shot," he answered simply. "How does it look?"

"See for yourself," Diggle handed him a hand mirror from another table.

Oliver held up the mirror in his right hand, angling it to get a view of the wound at his left clavicle and neat row of stitches. "Nice job with this stitching, Diggle." He complimented.

"Thanks, but it wasn't me, man."

"Felicity?" Oliver was taken aback, looking at the surprised woman.

"Right here." Tommy briefly raised his hand.

"Tommy?" Oliver looked confused.

Tommy just shook his head. "Never mind. You're up and alive and that means we've killed you. I'd say that's a point in favour of Team Hood." He smiled.

"The police collected a sample of your blood at QC." Felicity said, her fingers working the keyboard. "I just hacked into the crime lad and ordered the sample destroyed. Oops," she could feel The Hood stare, "Hey. I hope it's alright."

"Of course it's okay!" Tommy waved off any of Oliver's protestations, if he had any, before he could speak them. "You're way better at computer stuff than any of us and we definitely couldn't have hacked into the crime lab database and had Oliver's blood ordered to the incinerator."

Oliver stood and faced her. "Does that mean you want to join the team?"

She blinked in surprise. "Just like that?"

"You've proved yourself time and again, even if you didn't realize it. With that lap top, fob, black arrow and Vertigo. You took me here instead of the hospital." Oliver said. "You're practically an honorary member."

"So Diggle told me." She stood.

Tommy's eyes darted between the two, his breath held as his feelings towards the matter fluctuated. He wanted Laurel nowhere near Hood business, but he hoped Felicity's answer was... yes? Did that mean he cared about Laurel's safety more than Felicity's? No, it was that he had more trust for Felicity with this secret.

"No." She said.

"Then why-" he started.

"First, seeing a network so poorly set up hurts me in my soul; I couldn't just leave the poor thing like that. And second," she looked determined, "I want to find Walter and I can't do that on a half-baked setup.."

"Walter?" Diggle questioned.

Felicity nodded. "He was nice to me." She looked to Oliver, "Diggle told me the notebook that you use to fight crime is that same notebook that got Walter abducted. I want to help rescue him, but I won't help you with your crusade. Then, I want to go back to my boring life of being an IT Girl. That is my offer."

"Okay." He nodded gruffly and held out his hand.

She shook it. "Now, I've been meaning to ask..." her cheeks went pink. "Where's the bathroom? Because I've had to go pee since I got here."

"You precious thing." Tommy chuckled. He pointed, "Up the stairs and to the left."

"Oliver, I know you don't wanna hurt this girl and you didn't have a choice in telling her who you were, but we're asking her into some pretty dangerous stuff." Diggle challenged as Felicity disappeared upstairs.

"We can protect her," Oliver insisted.

"She's not going out into the field, right, because she's just here to help us find Walter." Tommy said. "She can do that from the safety of the basement. And besides, I'll always be here while you two are out."

"And what about all your... plate-spinning?" Diggle crossed his arms.

"Trust me. You think Felicity wouldn't be my priority?"

"Alright." Oliver nodded. "But Diggle will amp your training schedule."

"Done." Tommy agreed.

"While we have a minute," Diggle looked at Oliver, "Want to tell us what hell you were thinking."

Tommy pointed. "That's my line. What the hell, Oliver?"

Oliver sighed and ran his right hand through his hair. "You were both right. _Not_ about her being involved," he quickly inserted, "But what I do know is when I was standing in her office with an arrow aimed at her heart, she begged me to spare her all on behalf of me and Thea."

"Oliver, we know that she loves you and Thea, no one is doubting that. But after everything you've learned and seen in the last forty-eight hours... your judgement is clouded." Diggle said.

"Of course my judgement is clouded, she's my mother!" Oliver shouted. "But we haven't learned anything, have we? We don't know what The Undertaking is. And until we do, she's off limits. Is that clear?"

Diggle was quiet for a moment. "Yeah."

"Okay. Hey." Tommy interrupted. "It been a long night-into-day, we're all tired and stressed, and in _pain_." He gave his best-friend a pointed look. "You should go home, Oliver. Your mom... after what happened they'll want you home." Tommy said. "I'll take Felicity home, then take her car to get detailed. Your dime, of course. Your blood after all." He gently squeezed the blond's right shoulder. "Diggle will drive you, of course."

"Yeah." Oliver briefly squeezed his elbow before he gave a curt nod at Diggle, and left through the South entrance.

"I can't believe Moira shot him." Tommy whispered as Diggle passed.

"I can," Diggle scoffed quietly, slipping on his jacket. "She's not the kind of woman to sit idle as you wave an arrow in her face."

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _So, what did you think of Tommy playing doctor?_

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

"And you?" Felicity asked him.

"Huh?" She waved at his face; the bruised cheek, split on the bridge of his nose, and the horizontal cut at the left of his neck. "Oh. Just a little kidnapping earlier tonight."

"What?!" she exclaimed. That definitely got more of a reaction than finding out Oliver was The Hood.

"If it hasn't already been on the news, I'm sure it will be in the morning."

...

TOMMY: "Ok. Does this mean that I really am a side-sidekick now? I mean, she is staying, right? She does have more useful skills that I do AND she is definitely more pretty to look at and that's saying something."

FELCITY: "Oh, I'm not-"

TOMMY: "We ARE keeping her, right?"

DIGGLE: "She's not some piece of furniture you can own, Merlyn."

FELICITY: "Yeah. Though... I _would_ make an awesome bureau - if that was a thing that happened to all of us - getting our souls trapped in furniture like Beauty and the Beast."

TOMMY: "A chest of drawers, huh?"

DIGGLE smacked him upside the head.

TOMMY: "Hey!"

DIGGLE: "That's for being a pervert."

TOMMY: "I was just kidding around. I'd be a pillow, by the way, because everyone keeps slapping me around and slobbering one me" /OR/ "Apparently, I would be a rug 'cause people walk all over me."

"No," FELCITY shook her head. "You'd be a tablecloth, catching the mess before it soaks down to the table."

X


	15. Chapter 15: Dodger

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 15 - "Dodger"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy's starting to see a correlation here but he's above petty jealousy, now he just hopes Diggle's training stuck._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Dodger"**

Diggle was teaching him about hand movement, it was almost like a game of Patty Cake but with more violence. "How long are we going to do this?" Tommy whined. A drip of sweat was slowly trailing down the side of his face and he really wanted to wipe it away.

"Until I say so, Merlyn. Now put some footwork into it." And he moved, messing Tommy's rhythm and a fist impacted against his stomach; it wasn't hard enough to do any damage or make him double over, just a lesson with a bit of bite. "You think your opponent will just stand still?"

"No." Tommy circled with Diggle. "But maybe if I say please."

"These won't be grade-school fights, Tommy." Oliver said. "These people will kill you, given the chance. So don't give them the chance." And he went to town on the dummy, his bamboo sticks making a quick succession of sharp _tat!tat!tats!,_ the movement so fast they were just a blur.

"Aht!" Tommy cursed as he felt the sting of Diggle's palm against his cheek.

"Don't get distracted." Tommy muttered under his breath, but he picked up the pace, hoping he could slip something through Diggle's solid wall. "And you should take it easy if you plan on going out for a name tonight." He addressed Oliver.

"This is me taking it easy." And he snapped his bamboo stick over one of the protruding poles from the post.

"I think you should get a refund on that bamboo, buddy." Tommy remarked. "I don't think it's supposed to snap like that."

"You find the weak point and apply pressure." He tossed the broken bamboo, and grabbed a towel.

"So, who's the unlucky guy tonight?" Felicity questioned starkly from where she was stationed at the computer hub.

Oliver sent a brief glower her way, but turned back to the mat, addressing Diggle. "Ken Williams. His pyramid scheme stole millions. People didn't just lose their homes, their lives were ruined." He tossed the towel and slipped on his tee.

"And what exactly do you plan on doing when you find him?"

"Give him a warning." He turned to her with a challenging tone.

She challenged right back. "I pulled up some information on Williams. Did you know he's a widowed father of a ten-year-old boy?"

"You said you didn't want any part in my crusade,"

"I don't." She stood. "I'm here to find Walter but that doesn't mean being an accessory to orphaning little kids."

He stepped forward. "I said it was just a warning."

"Does this 'warning' include an arrow sticking out of one of his body parts?" she replied stoutly. "Has it ever occurred to you that you could do some good in this city? Beyond recovering peoples' stock portfolios and saving accounts, I mean."

"What exactly is it that you do at QC?"

"Keep the machines running and not have my pockets lined." She retorted with an angry furrow to her brow.

"You're not the only one who knows how to reboot my system." He growled.

"I made a mistake."

"I don't disagree." He stared down at her.

Diggle struck. Tommy wasn't even paying attention to him anymore, but his arm shot up and he deflected the blow. Diggle was impressed, but he let his admonishment go as Tommy side-stepped off the mat.

"Back off, Oliver." Tommy warned.

"No." Felicity held up a palm and stopped Tommy's advance. She turned her glare back onto the blond man. "I meant signing on with you. Even provisionally to find Walter." She grabbed her purse and jacket and left up the stairs.

"What was that for?" Tommy demanded, rounding on Oliver.

"I'm starting to think bringing Felicity in was a bad idea." Oliver said.

"Why? Because she disagreed with you?" Tommy scoffed in disgust at his friend. "Diggle and I disagree with you all the time. Isn't that the whole point? I think this would be a pretty ugly place if we were all of the same opinion. We each bring something to the game."

"She knows nothing about what it's like, out there, under The Hood."

"She can't and doesn't have to." Tommy peered at him. "But that's why you're upset, isn't it? You care what she thinks. No need to be embarrassed about it!" He smirked at Oliver classic grumpy expression.

"Tommy!"

Tommy gave a quiet chuckle, but sobered. "We need her, Oliver. To find Walter, to do things better. I'm sure in a few years, probably more, either one of us could get to sub pare computer skills compared to hers. But we need her, now. This is what she brings to the team."

Oliver exhaled, running a hand over his expression. "That warehouse was a bad lead."

"It wasn't a bad lead," Tommy corrected, "It was an old lead. The place had been cleaned before you got a look at it."

"Back on the mat, Tommy." Oliver pointed in acceptance.

He was surprised, "What?"

"I want to see if Diggle's made any progress." He stepped onto the workout mat. "Come on."

"I thought you were going out." He tried to deflect.

"Tommy!"

"Ok! Ok!" he moved back onto the mat.

"Easy, Oliver." Diggle said.

"I've only been doing this for a few months." Tommy defended himself.

"I was further along than you in two weeks." Oliver said.

"That's different. You were in a literal life-or-death situation."

"And that's exactly what it will be out there." And Oliver moved in, not giving him time to think. Tommy didn't even last ten seconds.

 **X**

"It's a good thing you left when you did." Tommy came into the single occupied office without knocking, shutting the door.

She wasn't at all surprised to see him. "Did I miss a Mr. Grouchy Hood rant?"

"Yes, but what I meant was... It would have been embarrassing if you'd seen how easily Oliver wiped the floor with my ass, face—whole body, really."

Felicity let out a snort and quickly covered her mouth and nose with her hands. "I'm sorry, that's not funny."

"Don't worry, your reaction was exactly what I was going for." He wheeled over a chair from one of the other desks in the office, all of which never seemed to be occupied whenever he came around. "Is everyone else around here on a perpetual coffee break?"

"No, they just come back at the worst times."

"Good thing I locked the door." He waggled his brows.

"What?" she stammered, her cheeks burning at the implication her mind instantly went to.

He leaned his elbow on the corner of her desk, his chin cupped in his palm. "Don't worry, Smoak. When I choose to ravish you, it won't be in your cubicle at work." He continued before she could realized he said 'when' and not 'if' with the most absurd question he could think of, "Can you believe they killed Ned Stark?"

She gaped at him for a minute, completely thrown. "You're not going to ask me the obvious question?" she asked in surprise.

"If you want me to, sure," he shrugged. "Otherwise... Who do you think should sit on the Iron Throne?"

"Okay, we're going to need coffee for this." She stood, picking up her QC Mug. "How do you take it, Merlyn?"

"Black, two sugar." He smiled.

It wasn't a minute later that he heard Oliver's voice outside the door. "Maybe we should come back later..."

"Or maybe we should wait." Diggle returned, stepping into the office. "This is serious."

"You're right," Tommy spoke up. "We could have carpooled and been involved in saving the environment."

"What are you doing here?" Oliver questioned suspiciously.

"Checking on Felicity." He leaned back in the chair. "You?"

"Grovelling." Diggle spoke before Oliver could. "He's going to grovel his ass off because if her next attempt of consciousness leads her to the police-"

"No, she won't say anything." Oliver shook his head with conviction. "I had to make the same calculations when you found out about me."

"And you didn't doubt for one second that I would go to the cops?" he didn't seem convinced.

"That was all me." Tommy admitted. "Oliver was all for believing in you. I wanted to cut my losses and posed a vote for a little vacation in the Bahamas."

"Now _that_ I believe." Diggle nodded at Tommy. He looked over at Oliver, "But I _don't_ believe you were just going to hang everything on faith, Oliver. What was your Plan B?"

Oliver paused, looking back, his expression without remorse as he said truthfully, "I would have put an arrow in you."

Diggle blinked. "Really? You would have killed me." Oliver's steady expression was confirmation enough. He ran a hand over his scalp. "Please tell me that's not your plan if Felicity doesn't fall for your grovelling."

"It's not." Tommy spoke for him in a hard voice, staring with steel eyes. "The thought's never crossed his mind. And if it did, as fleetingly as a blink, I would disown him and never forgive him. And then I would put an arrow in him myself!"

"Put an arrow in anyone tonight?" Felicity walked in, unsurprised to find the company of two more, two coffee cups in hand; luckily having come in upon the stony silence instead of the conversation. "I made a bet with myself on how quickly you would visit me and tell me not to reveal your secret. I won." She handed Tommy his cup and sat in her computer chair.

"No. In fact," Oliver said. "I didn't even have to draw. Ken Williams returned the money in time to put his son to bed."

She took a sip of coffee. "Am I supposed to impressed?" she turned to her corner monitor, bring up a live news feed.

"Actually, I was hoping that I could get you to change your mind." Oliver contradicted her assumption. "I was worked up on adrenaline last night and I didn't exactly put my best foot forward. I was hoping you'd give me the opportunity now."

 _"We'd like to remind the public we are_ _coordinating_ _efforts with Interpol as the Dodger operates primarily in Europe. They have_ _advised_ _us to warn the public that he is considered armed and extremely dangerous.-"_

"I've heard about this guy." Diggle said, nodding at the monitor. "They call him the Dodger because he avoids getting his hands dirty; he uses hostages to do the stealing for him."

"How?" Oliver wondered.

"Puts a bomb collar around their necks. Last year, a guy in Madrid didn't steal what the Dodger told him to—took his head right off. Literally."

"This psycho is in Starling now?" Felicity said. She gave Oliver a deadpan stare, "Too bad his name's not in your notebook."

"You know," Oliver crossed his arms. "Not all the people I go after are on the List. Every once in a while I make an exception. Hostage-taking jewel-thief, for example." He cocked his head at her. "So why don't you help us take him down?"

Tommy grinned around at them. "This seemed like something that needs to be talked about with a round of Big Belly Burgers."

 **X**

Tommy, Oliver, and Diggle carpooled to the Starling City Cancer Society Fundraiser Auction, each dressed in their finery for the occasion. Oliver had made a last-minute donation and put the Queen Broach up in the auction with the hope of attracting The Dodger. Each were already wearing an earpiece and just waiting on Felicity's arrival.

"The cops are here." Diggle noted quietly, spotting McKenna Hall and Quentin Lance.

"Not exactly who I was hoping for," Oliver uttered, his eyes ever searching for the man he had glimpsed back at the fence's warehouse before the collar exploded.

"And I have eyes on exactly who I was looking for," Tommy said, his eyes across the room on the loose wavy head of blond hair. She was in a sparkly gold number that looked gorgeous on her, a clutch strap over her bare shoulder and absent her glasses.

Her head was ducked as she weaved through the crowd of the rich like an expert, her focus on her cell. "I'm getting a good signal from the GPS I put into your family broach." She informed them when she arrived. "I can track it on my phone."

"Good." Oliver nodded

"You've outdone yourself, Ms. Smoak." Tommy smiled at her. "As smoking as ever."

"Still with the terrible puns, Merlyn?" Diggle said.

Tommy ignored the man. "You forgot a couple things, though." He told her smoothly.

"I did?" she asked self-consciously, knowing she remembered her underwear.

"Yeah." And in the guise of tucking her hair behind her ear, he slipped the comm. earwig in.

"Thanks." Felicity's cheeks went hot and she gave a nervous chuckle, her hand ghosting Tommy's motion at the unfamiliar feel of the comm. "You said a couple things."

"Yes, just one last thing to solidify your cover." And he spun on his dress shoed heel, coming to a stop at her side. He proffered the crook of his elbow, "Your scion arm candy."

She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow with a smirk. "How faux pas of me."

"Good thing I swooped in when I did. Come on," and he spun them away from the pair of men and into the crowd.

Oliver rolled his eyes. " _Just keep your eyes open_ ," he said over the open mic.

" _And tell us if there's any movement on that tracker, Felicity_." Diggle reminded.

"Whoa!" Felicity uttered a surprised sound. "Sorry." She said when Tommy gave her an amused look. "I'm not used to having three men in me. I mean, talking in me- at me- through an earpiece. Not actually ins- you all understand what I mean."

Tommy chuckled and squeezed the hand in his elbow comfortingly. "Unfortunately I understand all too well. Those two aren't the best company in your ear," he teased.

" _And you're just a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, Merlyn."_ Diggle said sarcastically.

"I am so your pot of gold." Tommy released Felicity's hand and turned to stop the waiter.

Felicity checked her phone. "We've got movement." she said in surprise.

" _Where?"_ Oliver growled.

A man brushed by her and she raised her head, her eyes falling on the blue-jewelled broach cupped discreetly ay his side. "Hey, that broach was donated by the Queen family." She blurted, stopping the man in his tracks. "If you want it, you have to bid."

"Actually, I thought I'd just take it." The Dodger smiled.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouted, dropping the Champaign glasses without thought. Taking the scene in through his peripheral, he swung around on his heel, interjecting himself into Felicity's place, knocking her away as his hand came up and grabbed The Dodger's wrist of the hand he'd been about to use to snap the bomb collar onto the woman.

"Tommy!" she caught herself on a couple standing by the displays.

"Get everyone away from here!" he told her.

The Dodger didn't let the surprise stall him and was already reaching into his jacket, likely to pull out his favoured electric wand. Tommy released one of his hands and quickly grabbed The Dodger's other wrist with it. Locking them. There wasn't much movement between them, even as they strained against each other for dominance.

Panicking, Felicity shouted: "BOMB! Everybody out! BOMB!"

People looked at her in shock, but then they saw Tommy and The Dodger struggling in a weird display, the ominous blinking collar held out—realization dawned, they'd seen the news and soon there was a clamour and everyone was rushing to leave, giving the pair a wide breadth.

"Don't be stupid," The Dodger said. "Protecting your girlfriend is very admiral, but is this worth it? You have no idea what I have in my other hand."

"A trigger or Taser," Tommy said. "Either way you'll get caught in the crossfire. So you tell me... is it worth it?" he stance briefly gave as he raised his foot, but quickly solidified again as came back onto of The Dodger's foot, pinioning the man.

The Dodger's other leg shifted back, his knee bending slightly, compensating.

And suddenly Tommy saw movement beyond The Dodger's form, it was Lance and McKenna, guns drawn—arriving before The Hood could. "Nobody move!"

"What does it look like?" Tommy ground through his teeth. Where the hell was Oliver, or more accurately, The Hood. He caught movement to his left as Diggle slipped in and quickly grabbed Felicity away.

The Dodger, seeing the split second of inattention, took advantage. He suddenly dropped his weight backward, twisting to the side. Tommy was forced to either release his hold or follow him. And no way was Tommy letting this bastard go. So he put the move to his own advantage; following The Dodger's movement and rolling them so Tommy landed on top.

They grunted as they hit the floor. Tommy got an elbow in the gut, his hand losing its grip on the arm between them, but he managed to keep hold of the bomb collar hand. Dodger bucked beneath him. Not wanting to get stunned again so soon and would rather not be blown up, Tommy quickly cracked his head down.

The Dodger gave a shout as Tommy connected with his nose, then slugged the man—twice—once in the ribs, then the face. The Dodger was senseless underneath him. Tommy shifted his grip on his wrist, taking the collar from him. Panting, he shifted back from the thief.

"Got it," he said, turning to look at Lance. He didn't even see The Dodger move, until there was a glint and then the man cried out, a flechette sticking through his hand.

"The Hood is on the premises. Be on the lookout!" Lance shouted into his talkie.

"Put it down, Merlyn." McKenna ordered. "And step away."

"Right." Tommy slowly set the primed collar down, and with slippery fingers, quickly pocketed the Queen Broach where it had fallen by The Dodger's thigh. He backed away.

McKenna quickly cuffed The Dodger and read him his rights. Lance got hold of the trigger and disarmed the bomb.

Tommy found Oliver in the company with Diggle and Felicity. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully to his best-friend.

Oliver nodded. "Sorry I couldn't do more."

"You did enough at just the right moment."

"Looks like Diggle's training paid off," Oliver said. Definitely not bad for his first time in the field.

"God," he rubbed his forehead with a grimace. "Guess my head's not as hard as we thought."

"I'm so sorry, Tommy." Felicity said. "He just bumped right into me and caught me by surprise."

Tommy rubbed her forearm reassuringly. "I'm just glad I was fast enough—he almost got that collar on you." He gave a shudder at the thought.

"Mr Merlyn." Lance called.

"Oh, goodie," Tommy muttered. He handed to broach to Felicity, "Maybe you should take out the tracker from that." He turned, blocking view of Felicity, "Det. Lance..."

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _Well? huh, huh, huh? Good thing Tommy was there, right? What do you think?_

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

FELICITY: "How'd your guys' dates go?"

OLIVER: "Great."

DIGGLE: "Awesome."

FELICITY: "You two are horrible liars. One truth to this conversation... Tommy and my's dinner was great. Not that it was a date. Not that I wouldn't date Tommy. What I mean to say is... it was a friendly dinner. A dinner between friends- who happen to be a man and woman- because that's a thing. Men and woman can be friends, too.  
And back to this;" she turned to the computer, "So this guys stealing things and killing people, huh? Where's he when you need him?

 **...**

TOMMY: "How is this fair? She just joined Team Hood and you're already letting her out into the field. I fell like my contributions haven't truly been considered here." / "I'm noticing a disturbing theme here, guys." / "A correlation."

DIGGLE: "Did you come up with the bug for McKenna's phone or the tracker in the necklace?"

TOMMY: "Obviously not." / "I'm just helping with Felicity's disguise, her arm candy. But just for clarification, the comms. were my idea... Still don't get why I didn't get one."

OLIVER: "There were only three, we had to prioritise."

TOMMY: "No, I totally get it. I'm like the mascot now, right? Diggle's the partner. Felicity's the tech support, and I'm just the encouragement - like your mom at the baseball game that you appreciate by it's just embarrassing to been seen in public with. So I guess, thanks for letting me out in the public, guys, 'preciate it."

FELICITY: "You make very good arm candy." Felicity told him tentatively.

TOMMY: grinned. "Believe me, I know. Now let me awe you." And he swung away from Oliver and Diggle without another word.

...

TOMMY: "You never cease to amaze, Smoak. As smoking as ever."

FELICITY: "Very cleaver, Merlyn. How about... you clean up like magic." / "This is some wizard's glamour spell, right?"

...

FELICITY: "God. This is going to take a minute to get used to." / "Yeah. I never thought I'd have three men in me. I mean talking in me- at me- through a comm. in my ear and nowhere else."

X


	16. Chapter 16: Dead To Rights

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 16 - "Dead To Rights"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy takes a leap of faith when Team Hood finds out his father is an assassin's target._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Dead To Rights"**

"A toast." Tommy said, holding up his glass of Châteauneuf du Pape and looking around the dining table at the mansion, desert served. "To the best birthday in a very long time." He looked at Oliver, "I have my best-friend in life back, five-years worth of birthday wishes finally come true." Laurel, "To old friends again." Felicity with a wink, "To new ones I couldn't imagine getting on without." He looked to Moira and Thea, "And a place that I can easily call home." Everyone murmured cheers and drank. "And I don't know how I had lasted so long without Raisa's delicious cooking," he grinned.

"Now you get to make a new wish," Thea said.

Tommy leaned over his candles and his eyes flickered towards Felicity, "Sure do." And he blew. The last candle flame flickered out just as the doorbell rang.

"I wonder who that could be?" Moira wondered.

"Could that be your wish already?" the teen joked.

Tommy smiled, opening his mouth with a laugh when Raisa stepped in the dinning room door. "Mr Merlyn here to see you Mr Tommy."

Tommy's smiled thinned as Malcolm appeared behind the woman; he hadn't seen him nor spoke with him since that disaster of a dinner on the night of Thea's 18th birthday party. It seemed the man had a habit of crashing parties he wasn't invited to. "What are you doing here?"

"Happy birthday, son." He held out a bowed small blue box and when Tommy made no move to take it, set in on the corner of the table.

"Malcolm, why don't you join us?" Moira said politely. Tommy and Thea tensed at the invitation.

"I don't think he can stay, Moira." Tommy said before his father could.

"Thank you, Moira," Malcolm smiled. "But I can't."

"I'll walk you out." Tommy stood.

"Don't worry," Malcolm followed him back into the foyer. "I know when I'm not wanted."

"That makes two of us." Tommy couldn't stop the utter.

Malcolm stopped and turned to him, forcing the younger man to stop. "Tommy. You're my son. I love you."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"If it will allay the tension between us, I'll turn the switch back on."

Tommy scoffed. "Save your money, dad. I don't need it anymore."

"Mooching off your best-friend is no better than where you were when I cut you off."

"I'm not mooching off anybody." Tommy sneered. "The only money I've taken from Oliver is the money I'm paid for doing _my job._ You can leave now." Tommy turned but Malcolm grasped the inside of his bicep, pulling him close.

"The reason I came was because I'm being honoured by the Starling City Municipal Group. They're bestowing me with their Humanitarian Award."

"They run out of actual humans to give it to?" Tommy asked sarcastically, testing his father's iron grip. "Guess they never found out that you tried to get me to close mom's clinic."

Malcolm's jaw tightened briefly, along with his grip. "I would like it if you could be there." He tucked a thick stock and embroidered invitation into the inside of his jacket pocket. "You might not believe this, but all I ever wanted was for you to be happy."

"I'm 100% certain I'm busy that night."

"It would mean a lot to me,"

Tommy finally got his arm free and he stepped back. He straightened his jacket and glared at the man. "Sometimes the people you want there the most—aren't. You taught me that valuable lesson; multiple times." And he turned his back in clear dismissal, heading back towards the dinning room, not looking back, and hoping to salvage the rest of his birthday.

...

Tommy groaned as he flopped heavily on his back on Oliver bed without ceremony. Oliver had a driver take Laurel and Felicity home for the night and Tommy might have leaned into the alcohol a little heavier than he had intended after his father had left. But aside from that slight hiccup, the night had gone great.

"Just what I was hoping for," Oliver mused as he stepped from the en suite in a tee and plaid pants. "A blow-up Tommy doll."

"Now I know what to get you for your birthday."

"You okay, buddy?" Oliver asked, looking down at him from the foot of the bed. "Things got a little tense after your dad left."

"Trust my dad to run all the smiles out of the room." Tommy said. "The alcohol hasn't been very helpful, either, if you were wondering."

"You sulking on my bed like a two year old gave it away."

"I'll own it."

"Move over," Oliver smacked his foot.

Tommy turned on his side, tucking one of Oliver's pillows under his head. Oliver sat on the edge of the bed.

"I know things with your dad have always been tense," Oliver started, ignoring the rude snort, "But it seemed to me like he was trying. He came for your birthday-"

"Oh thank you father, for remembering your son's birthday!" Tommy mocked.

"He's tried to reach our before-"

"You mean that dinner, the one where his sole purpose had been trying to get me to sign my mother's clinic into closure?" Tommy stopped him. "And now they're giving him a Humanitarian Award! Those people have no idea."

"He's not making this easy," Oliver muttered, running fingers through his hair.

"I understand where you're coming from, Oliver. But it's different with my dad than it is yours.

"Even after you killed those red masks when you first came back. I was scared, but I was never scared _of_ you. The same when The Count dosed you with that pure form of Vertigo and you chocked me. Or Vanch. I never feared you. I know you would never hurt me.

"But my dad... putting aside the family-feels, the dadlike actions—Robert always acted more like a father to me. He took me to my first hockey game, my first R-rated movie, taught me how to fly-fish. Dad never did any of those things. Sure, he lived at home, kept the money flowing, bailed me out. In retrospect, I'd rather have none of it. He mimed the part of 'father', but he never acted like one.

"I don't know if you remember this or not, but after my mom was killed, after her funeral... he just left. In the middle of the night, he disappeared. For two-years he was gone. I spent either most of the time here or alone in that big house."

"He'd lost his wife," Oliver reasoned.

"And that just excuses him? He had a son, too. I was eight years old and I'd just lost my mother. He just left with some cheap words. I lost both my parents when my mom died."

Oliver exhaled softly. "My dad wasn't perfect either. He made mistakes, and I'm not just talking about the list. What he did to my mom, the same things I did to Laurel. I still hold so much anger towards him. But I would give anything to have him back... because at the end of the day, not matter what they've done, your dad is your dad."

"When he came back," Tommy said after a moment, voice sounding faraway as he remembered, "He was different. He was... he was so freaking _cold_ , Ollie. And when I was around him, sometimes, I'd just- like some primal instinct thing- be filled with this dread. And he wouldn't even be doing anything and it would just make my back sweat. When I got older, I learned to ignore it most of the time. But now... I don't even know anymore." He shook his head against the pillow despairingly.

"I'm sorry, Tommy." Oliver said quietly, laying on his back on the opposite side of the bed, fingers laced on his stomach, ankles crossed.

Tommy just gave a one shouldered shrug. His eyes slipped closed. "Distract me, Ollie. Tell me that about the assassin."

"Is this our pillow talk?" he chuckled.

Tommy gave an amused smirk. "These are pillows and we are talking. So I guess this is our pillow talk."

"Felicity's still working on Berrera's phone, but she managed to pull the last number dialled. Jade Dragon, it's a restaurant in China Town... and it just so happens to be a front for the Chinese Mafia."

"That's my girl."

"Your girl, huh?" Oliver teased. "What about me? I got the phone."

Tommy chuckled. "That's my buddy," he mock-patted his chest.

Oliver just shook his head at his drunken friend. "Made a reservation for two..."

He grinned. "It's a date!"

 **X**

Tommy stared at the picture on Felicity's monitor in dumb confusion. Oliver had sent him a 9-1-1 text to get to the lair, he came as fast as he could, calling rain check on his late-lunch with Laurel. "I don't..." he shook his head.

"I'm going to take care of it, Tommy." Oliver promised. "I already called Lance; he'll be on the perimeter. I'll be inside and stop the Triad before they can get to your dad."

"Do you have any idea how they plan on- on doing it?" Tommy questioned, turning his back on the monitor.

"If they contracted out like they did with Guillermo Berrera, then we have to assume they're catering to the assassin." Diggle said. "The Triad are too clever to just go into a crowded place like that and shoot the place up, hoping they hit their target. Likely, they'll drive everyone outside, into the open, leaving your dad vulnerable, the assassin up high with a clear view of the front Merlyn Global. Even with his personal guard, Malcolm will be open and vulnerable out there."

Unable to sit still, Tommy stood and started to pace, one arm crossed over his chest, his other hand carding through his hair. "I know my dad's an asshole, but to hire a contract killer? Isn't that a little overkill and crazy."

"This is Starling City," Diggle said dryly. "It's where the crazy come, and all the crazy knows is overkill."

Tommy gave his head an internal shake; he needed to stop being hysterical and start being proactive. He stopped pacing and dropped his arms to his sides. He looked at Oliver, "I'm going."

"What? Tommy, no." Oliver shook his head. "It's too da-"

"He's my father!" Tommy shouted. "No matter what I told you on my birthday, it doesn't matter if I hate him or fear him. You said it yourself, Oliver... he's still my father." He took a breath. "You've just told me that my dad is the target of an assassination attempt and you just expect me to sit here. I don't think so." He gave his head a firm shake. "I'm going. Executive decision; I'm not even joking, Oliver."

Oliver inhaled, seemed about to say something, and just exhaled instead, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm the only one that can get in there and keep close to my father. You can't keep your eyes on the entire place, I'll be your eyes on the ground." Tommy reasoned. "We can be on comms."

"He's right, Oliver." Diggle said. "You need a second pair of eyes in there, and Merlyn's are better than none."

"Thanks," Tommy said sarcastically. "But I'll take it."

Oliver gave him a steady stare. "Okay. But we're taking precautions, no exception."

"Deal."

...

Before it all went down, Tommy stood among the front of the guests as his father gave his acceptance speech, a comm. in his ear, Kevlar on his chest, and hidden throwing knives on his person in case of emergency—and found himself thinking the same thing when Oliver had played drunk for the cameras at Robert's dedication ceremony all the those months back... masquerade.

The fire alarm set the night into motion. "It's happening!" Tommy called through his comm. He turned through the pushing crowd, looking for his father. His eyes widened as he saw the waiters. "It's the waiters, Oliver! They just killed the body guards. Dad!" he shouted.

And it just got like The Twilight Zone from there as Malcolm pulled him from the floor and up the staircase to the second floor. They were cut off in the hall by two automatic totting waiters, until Oliver repelled through the window, intercepting.

"I'll hold them off!" The Hood shouted at them. "Go! Now!"

Malcolm hesitated, seeming more intent on The Hood than actually escape.

"Come on!" Tommy grabbed his arm and darted across the hall toward the elevator. It had been years since he'd been in the building, but they'd gone over they blueprints in the lair. Malcolm keyed them into the elevator with steady hands.

"As soon as we get to the penthouse office, we'll be safe." Malcolm promised, a hand around the back of his shoulder, squeezing the junction of neck and shoulder.

"Dad, how are you so calm?" Tommy questioned. He understood what was happening, what was going on, had been expecting it—but his heart still fluttered with fear, his skin still beaded with sweat. "They're trying to kill us."

But before his dad could answer, outside the elevator were two of the Triad, guns pointed at the Merlyn men. There was a split second of frozenness and then Tommy instinct kicked in with a gun pointed in his face and Diggle's training kicked to the fore. Tommy managed to disarm his man, pistol whipping him; he moved for the second gunman, but Malcolm was already in movement.

He was as fast as Oliver in Hood-mode. Malcolm grabbed his gun arm, breaking it, and struck his throat, crushing the gunman's trachea; he chocked to death on the floor. But Malcolm didn't stop there; he grabbed the pistol-whipped man, twisted his arm behind and put him on his knees. The gun he'd gotten from the first man, poised at his head. It hadn't even been a minute of total action since stepping from the elevator.

There was a bang of the gun and Tommy flinched back a silent cry of horror as the body dropped with a thump into its own brain spatter.

" _Tommy? What was that?!"_ Oliver voice came desperately through his ear, his breath worked as he fought. " _Tommy! I heard a shot!"_

"You killed him." Tommy said. "W-why?"

"As surely as he would have killed you," Malcolm yanked him the short distance down the hall and into the penthouse, shutting the doors and activating the lock. "It's over," he said with conviction.

"How did you know how to do that?" Tommy demanded, unconsciously putting distance between them. "Fight... kill."

"Tommy, there is so much I need to show you." Tommy watched as slid aside a painting on the wall to reveal a keypad. He pressed his thumb to it. "So much you don't know..." He turned to Tommy. The wall _slid open_ behind him.

"Dad...?" Tommy started in confusion, his gaze drifting passed his father.

But then Tommy glimpsed something that stole the breath from his lungs, froze the blood in his body. But he didn't have time to process or contemplate or _understand_ before the glass windows were exploding and he was knocked to the floor along with his father.

"Dad?" Tommy pushed himself up with his forearms among the broken glass. With a hand on the pillar in front of him, he got to his feet.

"Tommy." Malcolm climbed to his feet, a thin trickle of blood from his hairline. "You okay?" he reached out an arm.

Tommy went to step forward when there was suddenly successive impact sounds and Tommy shouted in horror as his dad dropped. "Dad!" pressing himself briefly to the column, he dashed from safety, grabbed Malcolm's arms and dragged his father from view of the window and to safety. "Oliver!" Tommy dropped to his knees, and tore his father's shirt open—and stopped short. He was wearing a vest. "Felicity?" he tried, but still got no response. He reached for his ear and cursed, the earwig must have gotten knocked out when he fell.

"It's okay." Malcolm said.

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath. "You were shot, dad. You scared me," he admitted. He quickly grabbed the med bag from under the side table.

"Just a scra-"

Tommy looked up from the bag to see his dad passed out on the floor. Tommy pressed his finger's to Malcolm's throat, there was a pulse, but it was too sluggish for his liking. He pulled out his throwing knife and cut away Malcolm's jacket and shirt around his shoulder, un-Velcroing the strap to his vest. There was blood, but it didn't seem to be enough to make his father pass out. He cleared away the blood but only found a graze.

He stared, thinking rapidly. Could the shots to his chest have broken some ribs and punctured a lung? It was possible, but his current breathing pattern didn't fit. He remembered another graze and a sudden loss of consciousness. But Oliver had been hit with a Deadshot Specialty; The Hood had put an arrow in his eye when Diggle had been shot as well. Surely, the man could not still be alive. But Tommy could think of no other alternative, poison was coursing through his father right now and he didn't have the special island herbs.

Tommy dug through the med kit, trying to think. They hadn't really covered poisoning yet, at least not poisons like curare; but as he picked up a tangle of intravenous tubing, it struck him. Basic physics. If you add more liquid to a tainted batch and you can dilute the poison. He had the idea, now he needed to work fast.

...

Tommy was let into the room after they finished his father's treatment. With Malcolm still unconscious, all he had time to do was think—yet he kept spinning his wheels. He hadn't been in contact with anybody since he lost comms. in the penthouse and he wasn't sure that was a good thing or not.

"Tommy," Malcolm grunted into awareness.

"I'm here." Tommy stepped to his bedside. "You were shot, the bullet was poisoned. Take it easy."

"I should be dead," he said in confusion.

"It was a close call." Tommy admitted. "But I gave you a blood transfusion and it gave you enough time to get to the hospital."

Malcolm stared at him. "Your full of surprises, son. First disarming the waiter and now this."

"I could say the same." Tommy replied. "Dad-"

Malcolm reached out for his hand and pulled. "Sit."

Tommy did on the edge of the bed. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You said that after mom died." Tommy looked away.

"I wasn't a good father to you after your mom." Malcolm said. "I was lost."

Tommy's eyes flickered and he turned back to his father. "You never told me where you went. Is that where you learned to fight like that?"

"And I think its finally time I tell you." He squeezed Tommy hand. "I found myself in a place called Nanda Parbat. I met a man there. He helped me make sense of things, helped me find a purpose for my life and make this city a better place for everyone. Especially for you."

Tommy's chest tightened, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. What his father was saying now, what he sure he saw back in the penthouse; but there were still too many pieces missing, the picture wasn't making sense.

"Malcolm." Moira said from the doorway.

"Tommy, can you give us a minute?" Malcolm said, not taking his eyes off of Moira.

Tommy looked between the two before giving a short nod. "Sure," he said slowly. He stood, distracted, pressed a kiss to his father's hair and one to Moira's cheek—and stepped out into the hall.

"Tommy!" Oliver called quietly, quickly closing the distance down the hall. Tommy met him a short distance from his father's room. "Are you alright? I got caught up in the fighting. When we couldn't reach you over comms. I saw you get into the ambulance..."

"I'm alright. Dad's going to be fine, too. But, Oliver," he shot a look around and leaned in. "It was curare laced bullets."

"Deadshot?" Oliver shook his head. "I killed him."

"I know you think you did, but did you hear about the police ever recovering the body?"

"I put an arrow in through his _eye,_ Tommy!" Oliver said.

"Nobody else uses that MO." Tommy persisted.

Oliver sighed and ran a hand over his hair. "If you're right, Diggle's not going to be happy." He searched Tommy's face with a concerned brow. "That's not all, is it?"

"Oliver..." but he didn't know what else to say, where to even begin. So he just ripped off the Band-Aid and whispered the thought that had been haunting him for hours now—the terrible glimpse he had caught before Malcolm was shot: "I think my dad's The Dark Archer."

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _A little different with Tommy already knowing, huh? And with Tommy getting a_ _glimpse_ _of The Dark Archer outfit, things are definitely going to go a little different this time around._

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

"So what they say is really true... distance makes the heart fonder."

...

He felt Oliver's strong hand pushing him into chair. "I'm sorry, Tommy, but it's true."

He ran shaky fingers through his hair. "Who would want to kill my father?"

"Your dad's a businessman," Diggle said. "He definitely will have made enemies."

"Enemy enough to hire an assassin?" Tommy turned to the bodyguard, tearing his eyes from the picture, it made easier when Felicity blackened the monitor. "My dad's an asshole, but..." he just couldn't seem to process it.

"It's going to be okay, Tommy." Felicity squeezed his arm. Oliver already called Det. Lance, the police will keep the perimeter. And the Hood will be inside."

"I have the best chance of sticking close to my dad without anything looking amiss."

...

 _"Tommy, you can't go outside."_

"Bu-"

"Tommy!" Malcolm grabbed him.

"Dad."

"Come on. Upstairs. It's not safe down here." And Malcolm pulled him through the crowd toward the staircase.

"We're going up (?)." Tommy repeated, rushing with his father.

"I'll hold them off!" The Hood shouted. "Go!"

Malcolm hesitated, but Tommy didn't. "Come on, dad!" he grabbed his dad's arm and pulled him down the hall towards the elevator.

...

"Oliver..." but he didn't know what else to say, so he didn't.

x


	17. Chapter 17: The Huntress Returns

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 17 - "The Huntress Returns"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Helena returns and does something unforgivable; Tommy takes matters into his own hands so Oliver doesn't have to. Will both be able to cope with the consequence?_

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "The Huntress Returns"**

"This can't be good," Oliver said, coming through the alley entrance to see the rest of Team Hood already present and gathered around the computer hub. "I got a text from Dig saying there was something that I should see. I didn't expect the three of you. And you," he nodded at Tommy, "Shouldn't you be doing general manager things? Verdant opens tomorrow night."

"Believe me," Tommy said, holding up his hands briefly. "I would much rather be doing that."

"So, what is it that I should be watching?" Oliver asked, looking to Diggle and Felicity.

"This was taken at that strip joint, Alley Cats, in the Glades," Diggle nodded to one of the monitors.

Oliver bent slightly and watched the security tape. "Helena," he recognized her instantly. He crossed his arms as he straightened, "Who's the stiff?"

"His name is Gus Sabatoni," Felicity answered. "He was Frank Bertinelli's attorney."

"Why would se go after him, now, after all this time?" Oliver questioned in confusion.

"Come on, Oliver, we knew this was just a matter of time." Diggle disputed truthfully. "You tried to help her and you couldn't. The question now is how long before she drops a dime on you, us, and this whole operation?"

"You're right, we need to take precautions." Oliver took a thoughtful breath, "Okay. I want you to get in touch with our contact in the Bratva." He told Diggle. "Talk to anyone on the street, figure out why Helena's back.

"OK, but, Oliver-"

"Don't bother; it's obvious. She wants to finish the job. What else could it be, Oliver?" Tommy stated obviously. "You stopped her the first time and her father got taken into FBI custody. That was the last thing she wanted. She's licked her wounds and maybe now she thinks it time she put an ending to her crusade."

"Her dad is serving consecutive life sentences," Oliver contradicted firmly. "She'd never get to him."

"Speaking of father's who should be in prison..." Felicity said awkwardly, using that as her cue to switch the topic onto something else more uncomfortable.

Oliver's gaze instantly went to his friend as Tommy stood from the edge of the desk and went across the lair. He unrolled his soft kit and pulled out his throwing knives in a collection in his left hand.

"Your psycho ex-girlfriend isn't the only arrow-wielding freak back in the city," Diggle said drily. "The Dark Archer."

"Dad's back in action," Tommy said bitterly. "He was released from the hospital just yesterday and already there's a body!" he threw a knife in punctuation, and the blade stuck satisfyingly into the board.

"What happened exactly?" he looked at the pair as Tommy continued to throw his knives.

"I set up a key-word search algorithm for the Darck Archer a while back," Felicity explained from her computer chair. "But he's been silent since Christmas—until now." She turned to the keyboard and brought up some pictures. "I got an alert from a police report from a few hours ago, a body was found with a black arrow sticking out of it." She tapped the screen. "Definitely our Dark Archer friend- I mean enemy-" She cringed, "Or-"

"Felicity," Oliver stopped the babble with a brief touch to her shoulder. "Who is he?"

"Right. Um," she gave her head a little shake and spoke above the clatter and thunk of Tommy's throwing knives. "His name was Frank Chen. He was a wealthy and prominent businessman."

Oliver only looked confused. "Why would the..." he shot a glance back at Tommy, "Other archer want to kill Chen?"

Felicity looked uncomfortable. "Tempest."

"What's Tempest?"

Felicity inhaled and straightened her shoulders at the subtle nod from Diggle. "The 2.6 million that Walter had me track, your mother had said that she lost it in a failed investment three years ago, but she really used it to set up an offshore LLC under the name Tempest. The only activity that I could dig up on it, was in 2009, the purchase of that warehouse I gave you when I handed over all that information I got for Walter before he disappeared." She held her breath as she waited for his response.

Oliver's lips compressed, his hands white-knuckling around the crooks of his elbows at his crossed arms. There wasn't even the silence for him to think, just the racket behind. "Tommy." Whether the man heard him or not, he showed no indication. "Tommy!" the former scion wasn't even practicing, there was no control or calm in his stance or throws, it was just anger. Aggravated himself, Oliver grabbed a stray flechette from the table and threw it.

It struck Tommy's knife it midair, sending it flipping through the air in a diverted direction, imbedding itself through the material of the hanging punching bag by the workout mat; the flechette stuck itself middle the bull's-eye.

"What the hell, Oliver!" Tommy spun around, his eyes briefly manic as he breathed heavily.

"That's not helping anyone," Oliver pointed at the target, "Least of all yourself. You're angry? Want to hit something? _Someone?_ I'm right here," he thumped his chest. "Just say the word." He stepped around the table and onto the mat.

"I'm not going to hit you, Oliver." Tommy told him clearly. "I know you're upset about Moira-"

Oliver let out a harsh-sounding bark of laughter. "My mother might be shady, but your father is a downright killer." He poked his friend in the chest.

"Oliver, that's enough!" Felicity leapt to her feet, outraged.

Tommy's hands fisted at his sides. "I know what you're trying to do, Oliver. I'm not going to hit you. That isn't going to help either of us." He took a deep breath, unclenching his fists. "My father's a killer, your parents are conspirators. We are not our parents." He put a hand on Oliver's shoulder, but the blond shrugged out from under it. Turned and left through the side entrance.

"Shouldn't we stop him?" Felicity asked.

"He needs space," Diggle said.

Tommy heaved a sigh, scrubbed a hand through his hair. "He's still having a hard time coming to terms with Moira's involvement." He started to pick up his knives. "I had the advantage over Oliver of always suspecting, knowing deep down. The rug was yanked out from under him both times. It also isn't helping with Helena back in down stirring up trouble and old feelings." He rolled up the kit.

"Tommy?"

Tommy was surprised to feel Felicity's warm hand on his arm, not even noticing that she had moved as he packed away the knives. He gave her a small smile. "I'm alright, Felicity, as one can be when they find out their father is a trained killer and appears to be responsible for the disappearance of his best-friend's step-dad, anyway. All this assuming that I'm actually right; we don't actually have _proof_ that he's the Dar Archer, just what I saw for a split second in a stressful situation."

"You wouldn't have said anything if you weren't sure, Merlyn." Diggle said.

"A guy can dream out of his league." He gave Felicity's arm a gentle squeeze. "I have to go. There's still so much to do before tomorrow night."

 **A**

Oliver had been avoiding him since confrontation in the lair, but he was at Verdant's opening night. Tommy took that as a win, even if he knew that it was only for appearance's sake. He'd only seen his best-friend briefly when he'd joined the Queens for a celebration toast for a successful business, before he was to the wind again.

Tommy was too busy being a manager right now, making sure the alcohol kept flowing, the plumbing kept in working order, etc. to try and corner his friends. But hours later, at the right moment of reprieve in duties, a staffer slipped him a note from 'Mr Queen' asking him into the basement. Tommy gladly took it.

 _You couldn't text me yourself, you had to send a note through a third party? LOL. Should I be worried?_ Tommy texted Oliver as he walked down the back hall. He keyed the lock pad and opened the door—just as a breath purred against his ear: "I'm baack, pet." And there was a pressure on his back. He could only think _shit!_ before he was headed down the grate stairs into the darkened lair.

...

"Let him go!"

Tommy woke from unconscious with loud voices and a sharp zapping pain that was thicker than the rest of the ache in his body, in his wrist through shoulder. His arm twisted behind his back, the limb at an impossible vertical angle against the horizontal of his chest flat against the tabletop. He immediately tried to buck back against her, but she had good leverage and she used it. He grunted in pain, instantly backing off.

"I told you, Oliver." Helena said. "I warned you."

"This isn't you!" Oliver persisted.

"My father is a mobster and a murderer." She seethed, squeezing Tommy twisted wrist. "It's not like you haven't killed men for less."

"I kill because I have to, not because I want to." Oliver retorted. "I've tried to teach you to obtain your objective without killing. I've seen you do it, Helena. This isn't you-"

"This _is_ me." She applied pressure on her subject and he groaned in agony. "One thing that you did teach, that I took to well—by applying leverage, by exploiting someone's weakness..." the rest didn't need to be spelled out as she cranked Tommy's arm and he cried out. "I'll start with your little pet here, and then work my way up from there."

"Don't listen to her, Oliver!" Tommy ground through clenched teeth.

She shifted her hold in response. "Don't make me do something that you will regret, Ollie."

And then something snapped. Tommy couldn't help the scream; his vision went white and his ears rung. The pain was so hot and hard in his wrist, through his fingers, that he let out an involuntary sob.

"Okay! Okay! I- you win! I'll help you. Now let him go. Let him go!" Oliver shouted an arm reached out, breathing heavily.

"Good." Helena smiled and released Tommy.

Tommy whimpered. He was forced to gather himself faster than he was ready for and quickly moved away from Helena, arm cradled to his chest, moving in Oliver's direction but consciously leaving the two crusaders with a clear view of each other across the table.

"I'll call you," she murmured, smirking. She threw a wink at Oliver and disappeared.

"Why'd you let her get away?" Tommy demanded, his face beaded with sweat. "Why did you agree to help her?"

"I had no choice, Tommy. She was going to kill you!"

Tommy shook his head in frustration. "Why didn't you-" _put her down?_ he wanted to say. But he looked at Oliver and felt pity for the first in his life towards his best-friend; it was an angry pity. "What is it going to take, Oliver, for you to realize that there's no humanity left in that woman? She has her need for revenge and room for nothing else. You can't save her! You can't! There is nothing left to save, if there ever was. Oliver!"

"We need to get you to the ER." Oliver said instead. "Come on, I'll call Diggle."

"Call Diggle." Tommy nodded. "He can take me, but you're staying here."

"Of course I'm going to go with you." Oliver protested. "You're hurt, Tommy. It's my fault."

"You need to stay here, Oliver. Keep after the club, for appearances. And you need to get your head on straight." _Before it's too late._

 **RR**

"Hey," Tommy said as he spotted her coming from the back hall.

"Frak!" Felicity gasped, hand pressed to her chest. "Don't do that. You scared me!" she adjusted her glasses.

"Sorry." He gave her a sheepish grin. "Where you off to?"

"QC." She gestured with her cell. "Apparently something's wrong with the mainframe and it needs my immediate attention. No rest for the wicked. Not that I'm wicked, I am a nice person."

"Too nice a person to be hanging around with us lowlifes." He teased.

"I don't know... I think I've got one grey bone in my body at least." She winked. Then blushed.

Tommy gave her a smile, but turned solemn. "Helena's on the prowl. I'll go with you."

"Tommy, the club-"

"You're more important than the club, Felicity. She already got to me." He gestured the hard cast around his broken wrist. When everyone asked after the scrapes, bruises and cast, he told them he fell down the stair at the club; it wasn't really a lie. "I won't let her get to you. Okay?"

She looked at him for a moment, her eyes soft. "Okay." She said softly.

...

"Sorry it took so long," Tommy said, walking into the IT office, holding both mug handles in his right hand, his eye on them, careful not to spill them. "That espresso/coffee machine is insane. I think I'll make tea next time." He looked up when he got no response from the blond, and found her at her desk, sitting ramrod straight and a frightened look on her face. "Shit," he realized—they were no longer alone. He knew it as surely as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Hello, puppet." Helena said behind him and he felt a sharp point at his back. "Did you miss me?"

Tommy threw the steaming black coffee back over his shoulder and into her face instead, quickly following through with a sharp elbow. Felicity let out a little scream as the crossbow triggered and the bolt embedded into the computer monitor, making sparks fly. But Tommy didn't stop, couldn't stop, and he was following the elbow through with a roundhouse of his casted hand when she took out his leg. He dropped to his back and before he could roll, she power-drived an elbow into his solar plexus, blowing him away. He gave an explosive groan, arms circling his middle.

"Sweet dreams, pet." And she put heel to temple with a cry from Felicity leading him into darkness.

...

He moaned, his head giving a toss on the cold floor.

"Tommy!" Felicity whimpered.

Tommy's eyes shot open and he sat up with a pained grunt, casted arm around his middle, his other at his head. He quickly looked around; Helena was gone. "Felicity?"

"Under here." Felicity said.

"Hang on." Tommy quickly crawled around the desk and found Felicity bound under it, her hands behind her back, bound in computer cords and her feet. He quickly pulled out a dagger and cut the cords.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he pulled her out from under the desk and pulled her computer chair over to sit in. "Did she hurt you?" his voice was gruff, he brushed the hair from her face.

"I'm okay," she whispered, sniffing and rubbing her nose with her wrist.

He gently took hold of her face, searching her eyes. His thumb brushed feather-light at the edge of her bruised cheek. "She hit you."

She took hold of his healthy wrist. "It's fine. It's nothing. That's not important right now." She shook her head. "Helena wanted the location of her father's safe house; she made me hack the FBI database. What are we going to do, Tommy?"

"It's going to be okay." Tommy tried to think fast. "Are you sure you're going to be fine?" he pressed and she nodded. "Here's what you're going to do... you're gonna call Oliver and give him the safe house location. And Diggle's going to come and get you." He started to pull away.

"Wait. What?" she tightened her grip on his wrist. "Why would Diggle come when you're here?"

"You're going to be okay." He handed Felicity her glasses, the only thing that appeared unscathed from the encounter. "I'll make sure she'll never be able to touch you again." He pressed his lips briefly to her forehead, inhaling deeply, before he pulled from her grasp.

"Tommy-!" she rose halfway out of her chair, but he was already out the door.

"Call Oliver!" he called.

Dropping back into the chair, she picked up her desk phone and quickly dialled Oliver.

...

"That was pathetic, _Hood._ " Helena snapped the green fledging arrow like it was a twig, and it was after she'd just snatched it from the air. "You couldn't kill me, if that show was anything to go by." She tossed the broken arrow. "You're not a murderer, remember? But _I_ don't have that problem."

And Oliver stared down the barrel of the Marshall's stolen shotgun—and his death. He was still, focussed. Helena suddenly gave an uncoordinated jerk, the report was loud the muzzle flash of the shotgun bright in the night. He waited for the pain, for death—but there was none. He was jolted from his internal revelations when multiple gunshots followed it. Oliver watched as Helena dropped to the ground with a single chocked grunt, still. A dark knife handle gleamed from where it stuck out the back of her shoulder.

A shadow moved beyond her fallen body and Oliver's bow was up, arrow nocked in an instant—and it dropped accordingly as the ghostly pale face was revealed in the moonlight, gun in hand. "Tommy?" he whispered in horrified denial.

 **OW**

Tommy took the best bottle of Scotch from the shelf behind the bar and two tumblers. He set them on the table and poured each glass, setting the bottle down as he pushed one glass across to his silent friend before he sat himself. "Drink," he said, downing his own before refilling. He knew his doctor wouldn't approve of him mixing alcohol with his pain meds, but he really needed it right now. And he wasn't the only one. But Oliver hadn't budged an inch. "Oliver," he said seriously. "Drink that, now. We both need it."

Oliver rose his hand, gaze still down and rested it on the lighted tabletop next to the tumbler, fingertips pressed against the glass but made no move to drink it just yet. "It's my fault," he whispered in a broken tone. "I let her get away one too many times..."

"Hey," Tommy reached across the table with his right hand and tapped the side of the tumbler with his fingernail, making it ding dully. "I need you to drink up, buddy."

Oliver's breath shuddered. "And so I took your hands," he grabbed Tommy right hand with his left, squeezing. "And I made them bloody with my own failures!"

"Hey, look at me, Oliver!" Tommy said sharply. He reversed his grip when Oliver tried to reclaim his hand. "I saved your life! If I hadn't been there, you'd be dead and I would be standing at your funeral for a second time!" Oliver finally looked up, meeting his eyes with his own filled with such devastation and shame that it took Tommy's breath away, but he forced himself to go on. "Is that what you want?"

"If it saved you from this?" Oliver shouted, "Yes!" He stood, trying to pull his hand free, but Tommy refused and jerked his arm right back.

"Am I tainted now? Is my soul corrupt?" he didn't relent, "Is this the thing that broke the camel's back? Are you going to turn your back on me, Oliver." He paused and finished softly with: "Am I a monster now, like my father?"

"No!" Oliver said immediately, vociferously. "No, you're not. You're nothing like Malcolm, don't _ever_ think that!"

"This hand, right here," he nodded at their gripping hands, "Killed someone tonight." Diggle had been teaching him to disarm someone with a gun, but he'd also been teaching Tommy to shoot one as well. He took Tommy to the Shooting Range, made sure he could disassemble and reassemble his weapon like a soldier before he even allowed the club manager to shoot. And now they knew he could; it was field-tested. "Not because I wanted to, but because I couldn't stand what it would do to you if you had to. She might not have cared about you, but I know you cared about her and it would have killed another piece of you. Helena had gone too far, she'd hurt too many people..."

"Tommy..." Oliver swallowed and shook his head. "None of that should have mattered. I thought that I could save her, changer her. I think I just saw myself in her, it what I would have been if I didn't have you, and Diggle, Felicity. Mom, and Thea. If I didn't have all of you in my corner like Helena had no one. And I thought that if I could save her, then I knew there was a chance on me."

"You're a good person, Oliver. You aren't Helena. I always joke about being your moral compass in this crusade," Tommy admitted. "But tonight, my arrow was pointing right at her. There was no other way that this night could have gone. You have to believe that and stop doubting yourself." Tommy finally released his hand and picked up his untouched tumbler, holding it out to the blond. "Now drink with me, Oliver. Alcohol might not solve our life's problems, but right now, it sure as hell can't hurt it."

Taking a deep breath, Oliver gave a solemn nod and finally took the tumbler from his best-friend. "To the heart of Tommy Merlyn," he held the glass out.

Tommy picked up his own tumbler and pressed it against Oliver's, locking eyes with the man, "And to the soul of Oliver Queen." And they drank.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 **I realized after I started on the next episode, that I was getting a little ahead of myself with this one. Like in the beginning chunk with Frank Chen, who I now realize was (spoiler) killed in "Salvation" not "The Huntress Returns", I apologize but it's already woven into this chapter and I have made the executive decision to leave it. That leaves the topic in the next paragraph; I think that I can do something with it in the next chapter now, since it spreads over the two episodes.**

 _I did have the want to have Laurel confide in Tommy about her parents' belief that Sara was still alive and question Oliver about it,_ _but I got distracted with the Helena-plotline and ended up with no room for those plot-seeds to grow and flourish in the already drama and angst rich soil._

* * *

 **...**

 **P.S: The below is an AU piece of this chapter if Tommy hadn't said "I THINK MY DAD'S THE DARK ARCHER" at the end of the last chapter:**

Oliver stopped as he saw the three of them hanging around the computer hub. His brow flickered in amusement. "Why do I feel like I'm walking into some kind of intervention?"

"Maybe you should sit down?" Felicity suggested.

"Felicity!" Tommy hissed.

"What? I don't know what I'm supposed to do in a situation like this." She defended. "And he's kind of right, isn't he?"

Oliver crossed his arms. "Someone want to tell me what's going on?

Tommy and Felicity both looked to Diggle.

Diggle rolled his eyes. "There's something you should see." He nodded at the screen.

Oliver approached. "What is it?"

"Felicity?" Diggle said. Felicity played the security tape.

"Helena," Oliver uttered.

"Shee's baack!" Tommy said in a creepy voice.

Felicity smacked at him. "Don't do that."

"What? I thought it was rather appropriate." Tommy help up his hands. "The bitch is back just like Diggle predicted and she's already killed someone."

"Or your psycho ex-girlfriend as I like to call her." Diggle said. "The police report lists him as Gus Sabatoni. Ring any bells?"

Oliver's brow furrowed. "Bertinelli's lawyer. Why would she come back after all this time for him?"

"We knew this wasn't going to be a question of if, it was when, and the time is now." Tommy said. "No doubt she's still after her dad; she's taking her second shot.

"The only question now is... when is she going to drop a dime on you, us, this whole operation." Diggle waved a hand.

Oliver inhaled deeply. "Ok. I want you to get a hold of our Bratva contact; talk to anyone on the street, figure out where she is." He turned.

"Oliver," Diggle stood. "That's not all."

Oliver stopped and turned back. "What more is there?"

"Helena's not the only arrow-wielding maniac back in town." Tommy uttered.

"I picked up a police report, using key phrases," Felicity said. "A body was found this morning with a black arrow sticking out of it. Frank Chen; I've just started doing background, but so far he's come back clean." She brought up a photo.

"Why would The Dark Archer want to kill him?" Oliver wondered. "The only times that we know of that he's made an appearance have had to do with the list. But I don't remember seeing Chen's name marked down."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't involve him," Diggle reminded.

"Isn't he friends with Moira." Tommy said quietly.

"What?"

"I saw him at the house once," he nodded at the picture. "It was like a week ago. I was running late and I saw them go into the drawing room as I was coming down the stairs. I don't even think they saw me."

Oliver took a deep controlled breath. "Just because he knew my mother-"

"He's right," Felicity blurted.

"What?" Oliver demanded.

"That warehouse that your mother purchased through offshore holding company Tempest," she continued to type, "Frank Chen comes up in connection."

Oliver inhaled harshly, probably trying to prevent the angry lash out when Tommy finally whispered the thought that had been haunting him ever since the assassination attempt on his father. The glimpse he had caught before his father was shot. "I think my dad's The Dark Archer."

"What?" Felicity blurted in surprise next to him. "That's not even funny, Tommy."

"I'm not joking." Tommy stood, stepping away from the hub and oppressing stares. "A couple nights ago at the Humanitarian Ceremony, when we were locked up in the penthouse, just before Deadshot shot through the window... I saw- I don't know, The Hood's evil twin. A dark hood. It was only for a second, I-" he shook his head and waved his arm. "He knew how to fight. Like you, Oliver. He killed those two Triad members that stopped us. That gunshot you heard... that was him."

Diggle and Felicity were silent, glances darting between the two best-friends—waiting with bated breath.

Oliver's fists were clenched at his sides. "What were you thinking? How could you keep this to yourself for two days, Tommy!" his outburst fuelled by his own anger.

"Are you kidding me?" Tommy spun on him, incredulous. "You flipped out if we even said Moira's name in the same sentence as the list. That's innocent compared to this! My dad-" he palmed his mouth, hard-pressed to get the words out. "I called it, didn't I? Best birthday ever!" he shouted sarcastically. "What I always suspected, feared, is true. My own father is a psycho, killer, evil man. He almost killed you, Oliver. He kidnapped Walter. For all we really know, he wrote this goddamned list!" he picked up the notebook and tossed it across the basement. Unshed tears burned his eyes.

"Tommy, this is big." Oliver said levelly through a clenched jaw. "This is not something that you just keep to yourself, assumption or not. We needed to know. Just because he's your father-"

"That's pretty funny coming from a hypocrite like you, only nobody is laughing!" He breathed hard. "I have to go. Opening night is tomorrow and there's still a million things I still have to do." He was already up the stairs before anyone could stop him. "It needs to be perfect."

"Aren't you going to go after him?" Felicity demanded of Oliver.

"No, he needs some air and I need to think."

 **X**

Tommy had been avoiding Oliver, like the plague and Diggle and Felicity like they were cohorts of the plague. As his father had nearly been assassinated, not to mention his assumed "night-dentity", he had been a little distracted the past four days and had neglected his duty as general manager of Verdant.

It was a childish move in such a serious matter, but nobody ever made a How To when you found out your father was your best-friend's arch nemesis—he was playing it by ear. But despite his best to avoid, Team Hood could have had the courtesy to have warned him that Helena had already made contact with Oliver the day of opening. So on the night, when the opening was in full swing and the house packed, - - - - - - -

x

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

"I'm okay as one can be when they find out their father is a killer."

...

Oliver finally looked up, meeting his eyes with his own filled with such devastation and shame that it took Tommy's breath away, but he forced himself to go on.

...

"Oliver, I think we should accept that neither of our parents are perfect, but making up for that lack of perfection should not define who we are. Your mother may be involved, but I don't believe that she'd entirely complicit in "The Undertaking" — and I'm not just saying that to save your feelings.

"Do you remember that tape that Diggle recorded of her and that distorted voice a bit back? She didn't sound entirely into it to me. Maybe you were just too focused on the fact that she was involved in something and she knew that The Queen's Gambit was sabotaged. But that other voice was pretty scary and I have a feeling we both know who it belonged to."

 **x**


	18. Chapter 18: Salvation

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 18 - "Salvation"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Just because Tommy's not in the lair, doesn't mean the drama just stops._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Salvation"**

"L _awyers for John Ni_ _c_ _kel spoke to the press today. They say they're please_ _d_ _the DA declined to indict their client on charges stemming from the recent fire in one of Ni_ _c_ _kel's buildings..."_

Tommy was already nodding off to the morning news broadcast on the couch in the family room. His pain meds, coupled with a nightmare riddled night of tossing and turning had not done his psyche any favours. It had been a recurring one; it was storming and he killed Helena with his throwing knives before she could kill Oliver, but when he went over to the body and turned it over, it was his father in his Dark Archer Hood, but then it morphed again and it was Oliver he held dead in his arms.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Thea pushed at his knee with her barefoot, jolting him back to wakefulness. "Thought you might need this; double-shot espresso. I would have kissed you," she joked, "but Prince Charming is blond."

Tommy rubbed his eyes. The last thing he needed right now was straight caffeine; he took the offered cup. "Oliver's not my type." He told her, taking a large sip. He definitely had another blond in mind for kissing.

Thea's eyes glinted as she sat on the couch next to him, arm bent across the back as she faced him and watched him drink. "I was thinking of another blond." She read his mind.

"Don't you have school?" he asked her.

"Don't you work now?"

"It's too early, I'll go in later before we open." He told her. Truth was, under unanimous vote of the other members of Team Hood, he'd been voted out of the Arrowcave. His own executive vote had been vetoed. He was currently removed from the equation of Hood-business until he at least got the cast off his wrist. Hopefully, the nightmares stopped within those two weeks. "Are you skipping?" he poked her knee.

"No. I'm CNRI to do some hours. Wanna come?"

"Come with you while you do your scheduled community hours for the day?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "You can be the assistant to my assistant. It could be fun."

"Fun?" he teased. "And in this scenario, would I be doing your work for you, 'cause you know it doesn't work like that, right?"

"Dang!" Thea snapped her fingers in mock disappointment. "And here I thought I caught you at a vulnerable time." She pressed her finger between his tired brow.

He gave a light chuckle and caught her had with his broken one, giving it a brief squeeze. "You might have if you didn't give me this espresso." His took a sip to reinforce the statement. "How about this instead? I'll drop by this afternoon and take you and Laurel out for lunch. How does that sound?"

"That sound's great!" she smiled happily.

"Then get out of here, Speedy. Time'll pass by faster when you're busy." She nodded and started to leave. "I'm just going to take a nap," he joked, stifling a yawn.

Thea paused in the doorway. "Tommy?"

"Mm?" he set the empty cup on the coffee table.

"Are you okay?"

He looked across at her in surprise. "Of course I am." He stood. "Why would you ask that?"

"It's just..."

"Thea?" he approached and put a hand on her arm. She took a hold of his left hand carefully in both hers. "I'm alright, Thea. It was just a fall. Broken bones heal."

"It's not just that." She shook her head, finally looking up to meet his eyes. "You're not sleeping, you're having nightmares, aren't you? The other week I woke up and I heard you cry out, when I looked into the hall I saw Oliver going into your room."

"It's just the pain meds, Thea. It's nothing to worry about." He tried to reassure her. That had been a bad one, and the reason Oliver had cut him off from the lair. "In a couple weeks, the cast will be off and it'll be like none of it happened. I'll be as right as rain, don't worry." His thumb brushed her cheek. "Now go, before you're late."

She looked at him for a searching moment before she was forced to accept his words. She gave him a tight hug before she left. Tommy gave an exhausted sigh, carding his fingers through his mussed hair. He needed to take better care.

...

When Tommy arrived at the CNRI, he spotted Laurel first at her cubicle and headed her way. "Hey, you ready to go?" he stuffed his right hand into his pocket.

She looked up from her computer and gave him a blank look. "Tommy?" she asked in surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He gave her an amused look. "Brainfart, much? Lunch. Didn't Thea tell you?"

"What? Oh!" she realized. "God, Tommy, I'm sorry. I must have spaced. I just have a lot on my mind right now."

"Working on another big case?" he asked, stealing the empty chair from a neighbouring cubicle.

"No. It's..." She took a complicated breath. "My mother's in town."

"She is?" Tommy was surprised. "When did that happen?"

"A few days ago." She rested her elbows on the edge of her desk. "I opened the door and she was there. The first thing she said: Sara; she's alive."

"Whoa. What?" he sat back in shock.

"Trust me, I was ready to call the hospital myself." Laurel promised. "But she had this file and this picture," Laurel showed him the photo. "I went to my dad seeing if he could convince her to let it go like before, that Sara died—but she managed to convince him to help her instead! I'm losing it, Tommy."

"That's heavy, Laurel." He put a hand on her shoulder. "If you wanted to talk with someone, you know you can call me."

"I know, I know. It's just... stupid." She shook her head. "She's even got _me_ hoping."

"It's not stupid." He told her. "I understand that hope, I had that hope. The only difference is... my hope was answered with a miracle. I'm sorry, Laurel."

"I'm waiting on a call." Laurel inhaled deeply, shaking her head as she wiped at her tearing eyes. "There's Thea. I thought you said we were having lunch?" she teased in subject change.

He gave her a soft smile. "I always keep my promises."

 **X**

Lunch had gone interesting. Apparently Thea was sort of dating someone. Oliver obviously didn't know about it, otherwise the guy would be walking around, growling like a bear. Tommy definitely was not going to touch that with a ten-foot pole and be the one to tell him.

His phone had been going off since he arrived a Verdant, and now that he actually checked it, it wasn't good news. He knew he was 'banned' from the lair right now, but he quickly punched in the code and went downstairs.

"Please tell me you guys are dealing with this," he said, his phone held up. "Some guy just kidnapped the DA and is broadcasting it!"

"They're working on it," Diggle informed him quietly, nodding at Felicity who was rapid-firing directions to Oliver over the open comm.

"How is that possible?" Felicity cried in dismay.

" _Find it, now, Felicity_!" Oliver's voice barked over comms. " _Felicity_?"

Felicity swallowed. She whispered, "He's dead, Oliver."

"Felicity?" Tommy asked gently.

Felicity turned in her chair, sniffling. "Tommy, what are you doing here?"

"The real question is: are you okay?"

She nodded and stood. "I just need a minute." She left up the stairs.

Tommy turned to the other man. "Diggle, what the hell has been going on?"

"Oh," he sighed heavily. "Just a maniac calling himself The Savoir, who kidnaps people, deems them guilty, and broadcasts their murders on the internet."

"Oh, is that all?" Tommy said sarcastically. "And Felicity can't just block the broadcast?"

Diggle shook his head. "First thing she tried. We know who the guy is now, why he's doing this. We just don't know where the hell he is. This is his second body already and something tells me that he's not about to stop. The Hood is going to have to do it for him."

Tommy nodded. "I'm going to go check on Felicity." He left up the stairs, but he found another blond instead. "Hey,"

"I can't talk now, Tommy." Oliver told him. "I need to talk to Felicity."

"Stop." Tommy put his cast hand on his chest, halting him. "This is not Felicity's fault."

"Two men are dead already." Oliver said.

"And you don't think she's doing her hardest to stop that right now?" Tommy returned.

Oliver took a deep inhale. "I know, I know. I'm just frustrated. We're having no luck finding this bastard." He carded a hand through his hair.

"So Diggle tells me."

Oliver nodded, then narrowed his eyes at his best-friend. "What are you doing here, Tommy?"

"Don't worry, it's just club work." He said. He paused. "You haven't talked to Laurel, have you?"

"What? I'm kind of busy right now, Tommy."

"Well, I think you should know... Laurel's mom was like me after The Gambit. Having that knowing, that hope that her daughter was still alive somehow, out there somewhere unable to get back home. She still is, actually."

Oliver furrowed his brows. "Why are you telling me this, Tommy?"

"I'm getting there; it'll only take a second. When you came home, it reenergized that hope inside her. And the someone sent her this picture," he showed Oliver his phone. "And she came back to Starling, showed it to Laurel. Laurel showed it to her dad, hoping he'd set her mom straight—but everything went Twilight Zone and now Lance is helping her."

Oliver stared down at the phone, his knuckles white as he held it. "She's dead, Tommy. I saw her die—twice." He shook his head. "As much as I wish it was true, it's just not possible."

"I know," he gently took his phone back. "Laurel made a few calls to the Chinese Embassy. It wasn't Sara. I just thought you should know. Are you going to be okay?"

Oliver just nodded. "I really need to find this guy."

"Then we both need to get back to work." Tommy patted him on the back.

"Tommy?" Oliver turned back. "Thanks for telling me."

"Sure." Tommy was heading back to the main floor when he encountered Felicity heading back from the bathrooms. "Hey."

"Hi." She paused in front of him.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Once we find this guy I will be," she said with determination in the same mindset as Oliver.

He gave a small smile. "If anyone can, I'm sure it's you." He squeezed her hand encouragingly. "Oliver couldn't do it without you."

 **X**

"Thea and her... boyfriend," Tommy said as he came down the stairs and grinned at Oliver's grouchy-face, "Are going to be fine. And my party of blond people?" he asked, looking between Oliver and Felicity.

Felicity and Oliver locked eyes for a moment before they turned back to Tommy. "Great," they said.

"That..." Tommy exclaimed, pointing at them, "Was friggin adorable!" he took out his cell phone jokingly and held up, "Okay, now do it all over again, pretty for the camera."

Oliver stepped forward and took the phone. "I don't need videos of the lair popping up on Youtube, Tommy."

"Just Instagram." He said with a straight face.

Felicity snorted in laughter and quickly covered her mouth. "Don't mind me," she cleared in throat and gathered her purse.

"What's this?" Tommy asked, stealing Felicity's computer chair with a girn.

"Hey!" she pouted.

"Felicity pulled that up." Diggle said. "It's an old map of the decommissioned subway line. It runs all through the underneath of the low-rent district of the city."

"Huh."

"Hey, I've seen that before." Oliver realized. "It been right in front of us this entire time!" The others looked at him questioningly. Oliver took out the notebook and handed it to Felicity.

Felicity opened the notebook to the inside cover, leaning over next to Tommy and holding it open next to the monitor. "You're right," she gasped. "I can't believe I didn't see it."

"My dad, The Dark Archer, this 'Undertaking'..." Oliver pointed, "Whatever it is, it's all connected to the Glades."

Felicity handed the list back to Oliver, her hand on the back of the chair. "At least we're getting closer, this will help narrow the field."

"Well, we're not going to get anywhere with it tonight." Diggle said. "It's been a long day, let's go home, get some rest. We'll see about any new ideas in the morning."

"Coming, Tommy?" Felicity questioned.

"Yeah, yeah." Tommy gave a distracted nod as he stared that the map on the monitor with a cocked head. Something was nagging him, but he couldn't pinpoint it. He gave his head a frustrated shake. He pushed from the desk. "Unlike you three, my work day is about to start. Can I get my phone back? I promise the Arrowcave won't end up on SnapChat. Thank you. Goodnight, everyone!" he called as his path diverted from theirs and he headed up the stairs.

He took out his phone and dialled a number he didn't think he would want to call again, not that he really wanted to now, but he didn't see any other choice. Tommy took a deep breath as the line connected.

"Hey, dad. Could we grab some dinner sometime?"

 _f_

* * *

 **aRROW**

 _I'm not sure I like this chapter very much, but tell me what you think. I know I promised I would do something with Sara; it sort I felt like a filler more than anything, so sorry for that. I just really wasn't sure what to do with this episode, plus having managed to put some bits of it in the previous chapter. I think that messed me up a bit with it._

* * *

 **DELTED TEXT:**

He wasn't avoiding the lair, but under a unanimous vote he was taking a spot of personal leave. His executive vote was vetoed by the other council members.

x


	19. Chapter 19: Unfinished Business

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 19 - "Unfinished Business"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _As past Hood-business resurfaces, Tommy's gets prosecuted for his own past and he revaluates his contributions to Team Hood._

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Unfinished Business"**

"I can't believe Lance just accused me of dealing in the club!" Tommy proceeded Oliver down the stairs into the lair. "He even had the balls to accuse me in front of his daughter." He went straight to the workout mat and punched the punch bag without pause. "I thought we turned over a new leaf once Laurel and I decided to stop trying to pursue a relationship and just be friends." He pulled back his left fist.

"Hey," Oliver quickly intercepted, stopping his punch. "Hey. You just got the cast off, Tommy, the last thing you need to do right now is re-injure yourself."

Tommy took his left hand back, and kicked the bag with a frustrated shout before Oliver forced him to back off and into a chair, his chest panting heavily. "The Count's down for the count, how is this stuff back on the streets? It's not like he made a cookbook. That's his star recipe, his only recipe, he wouldn't have let it get into an amateur's hands before he turned Fruit Loops."

"I don't know yet, but we're going to figure it out." Oliver patted his shoulder. "You good?"

"Look, my nights are busy, my days are busy. I'm finally off the pain meds, maybe now I can finally get a decent night's sleep."

It felt like he was burning at both ends; losing control of his plates. It was ironic because he wasn't even the one who went out at night in a hood, he was still the benchwarmer. But he was okay with it, seeing as he had to run the club, attend his Advanced First Aid classes, he had more woman in his life than he could remember. And he recently etched out a corner in his schedule for Malcolm, trying to get back to that place they were in the hospital room when he started to talk before Moira had interrupted; of course, all without the others knowing.

Now this resurgence of Vertigo… Something they had all believed put to bed three months ago.

"Alright," Diggle returned, wearing his thug disguise, Felicity quickly following after. "The person-of-colour has successfully purchased your drugs."

"How will we know the tracker is active?" Oliver questioned, his attention on the pair.

Felicity reclaimed her computer chair. "It already is. I'm getting a good signal off the monofilament strips we placed in the bills."

"Drug money's like a pigeon." Diggle said. "Always finds it way home."

"And we can follow the money back to The Count." Oliver nodded.

"Okay." Felicity turned her chair. "But what are you going to do with the Vertigo you bought?"

Tommy stood. "We could always just add it to my stash."

"What?" Felicity questioned as he approached Diggle.

"Haven't you heard? I'm dealing Vertigo out of the club and to our clients."

Felicity looked startled by the announcement. "How long have I been gone? It was just a bathroom break."

"Tommy." Oliver said in a warning tone.

Tommy ignored him and took the dime bag off of Diggle. "These don't even look like the other Vertigo pills. I'm telling you, Oliver, The Count's escape is just a coincidence. This batch of Vertigo is sub-standard to the previous pills."

"I thought you said you've never taken Vertigo," Diggle crossed his arms.

Tommy gave an exasperated sigh. "I haven't," he handed the pills back. "I'm just putting the facts into a legible concept. _That_ is not the work of The Count, I'm telling you. What you all do with that information is your decision," he backed off with raised hands. "I'll be upstairs. We've got a supply delivery coming in that I need to oversee."

...

Tommy was just starting his checklist when headlights flashed and drew his attention. He groaned internally and ground his teeth. He was not in the mood for this, not from their last encounter at Laurel's and not with the scene in the lair.

"Come to accuse me of dealing again, Det. Lance?"

"Eric Messner." Lance ignored his accusation.

Tommy blinked at him blankly, "Who?"

"Stop playing games, Merlyn. You know exactly who he is,"

"I really don't."

"He's a zoning commissioner for Starling City. And a notoriously corrupt one at that. There's a discrepancy in the club account-"

"What exactly is it that you want from me?" Tommy demanded.

Lance narrowed his eyes. "We can clear this whole thing up right now," he swept his arm. "Just let me have a look around and it'll clear this whole thing up."

"Absolutely." Tommy sneered. "Right after you get a warrant."

"That's how you want to play this?"

"Yeah. Learned that one from your daughter."

Lance shook his head. "I'll be back, Merlyn."

"Yeah, yeah." Tommy uttered, turning his attention back to his clipboard. "Always ready with an accusation in the barrel and a prosecuting finger on a hair-trigger."

Tonight was turning out to be a very bad night, and it wasn't even close to being over. As soon as the headlights vanished, Tommy dropped the clipboard and ran to the lair.

"Guys, we got a problem!" he started, but stopped short. The lair was unoccupied. "Seriously?" he shouted in frustration. He paced, fingers in his hair as he tried to think fast. Team Hood had really bad timing when he needed them. He sent a 9-1-1 text to Oliver, but he didn't have time to wait around for Oliver to come swooping to the rescue.

Lance was going to work fast with getting that warrant for the club, trying to beat Tommy before he could hide the evidence. And that was exactly what Tommy was going to do. It certain wasn't the evidence that Lance would be expecting, but it was illegal all the same. He had a few hours at most, he had to work fast.

...

Tommy returned to the bar, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He'd finally finished in the basement and he just wanted to sit and have a drink and curse Oliver and Lance while he did it. He leaned across the bar, grabbing a bottle at random from behind and sitting on a stool. He'd just cracked it open and took a pull when Lance came, just not the one that he was expecting.

"Hey," Tommy said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it a early too be drinking?" Laurel claimed a stool next to him.

"It's I-need-it o'clock somewhere." Tommy took another swallow. "Want something? It's on the house."

"I knew it," she said. "After my dad dropped by... he drove you to drink."

"No." He shook his head. "The first time he drove me to work. It was the _second_ time..." he waved his drink in answer.

"What?"

"Oh, yeah. Came by trying to get into the party without an invitation. When he comes back, something tells me he's going to have it whether I let him or not."

"Tommy." Oliver arrived before Laurel could say anything. "I came as soon as I got your text."

Tommy put the drink on the bar and stood. "You need to cheek your texts more often, buddy. We got a problem with the... thing."

"Your problems are just starting, Merlyn." Lance interrupted, joining the party with two uniforms and a troubling piece of court ordered paper. "As requested, a warrant to search these premises."

"I can't believe you're doing this." Laurel took the warrant permit.

"Believe it." Lance said. "I asked nicely the first time, now I'm knocking the door down."

Oliver was taken by surprise, but he quickly reasserted his business-face. "Detective, I may not an attorney but on what grounds are you searching my club?"

"On the grounds of your general manager bribed a government official to keep him from inspecting the entirety of your building."

 _Oh, shit._ Tommy realized in an internal freak-out. He had completely forgotten about that (even after Lance brought it up earlier) and he had forgotten to tell Oliver about it, too. It had been after the Firemen Gala and the place had gone up in flames. The club had to be re-inspected, but Oliver's vigilante lair was set up in the basement of the factory. Having no option and out of time, Tommy had gone Shady-Businessman; if his father knew, it probably would have made him proud.

"What?" Oliver cast a look at Tommy.

"By that reaction I'm going to assume that your buddy didn't let you in on that little transaction." Lance remarked. "Will your reaction be as genuine if I told you he's selling Vertigo out of the club?"

"I can assure you, that he's not." Oliver said firmly. "That's not the kind of club we're running. We do our best to keep that kind of thing out of here, but unfortunately things slip through the cracks."

"And I just bet the two of you love those cracks." Lance noted with disgust.

"Ollie, it's valid." Laurel folded the powerful piece of paper.

"Thank you." Lance said. "Now that we've established that _I_ am at least by-the-book—A sub-level is not listed on the inspections floor plan. However, I pulled county records; there's something down there. I wanna see for myself what it is." Lance was already making his way down the back hall and the others were forced to follow. "Oh, look at that." They arrived at Pandora's door. "Open the door."

Tommy had managed a quick touch to his elbow on the journey down the hall and to the basement door, trying to convey his readiness for this very situation and to trust, but Oliver was getting hit with flight-or-fight overload right now at the unexpected situation he found himself in. He couldn't help one last stall, "You're making a mistake."

"No," Lance shook his head. "You are if you don't open that door."

"We have nothing to hide." Tommy said confidently.

"I said open the door."

One last glance at Tommy, Oliver punched in the code and a lead the way into the darkness of the lair. Tommy easily found the main light box and flipped the switch. The place lighted to a view of—a regular basement. Oliver shot Tommy a complicatedly grateful look.

"The place is kind of a mess," Tommy said. "I've been using it to store the bulk of our inventory."

"What's in the boxes?" Lance questioned, already approaching the center pallet.

"Why don't you have a look?"

Lance opened several boxes and only found expensive bottles of whisky.

"Well, if prohibition was still in effect," Laurel commented drily, her arms crossed. "You might have the basis of a criminal complaint."

"Would you like to have a look at the rest of the crates?" Tommy suggested generously, hiding his thrumming heart as he waited for the answer he hoped for, otherwise they were screwed up the river and back again.

Lance checked another crate to the side and only got drink ware. He turned to the manager, "So, if you don't have anything to hide, why didn't you want the inspector down here?"

"Well, the ventilation system in this place hasn't been updated since the 60's." Tommy sold the lie which could just as easily be the truth had he actually let the inspector down here. "I mean, we shouldn't even be open."

"Yeah." Lance didn't seem happy at his finding of innocence. "And the whole song-and-dance show?"

Tommy looked steadily at him. "A leopard and its spots, right? That's what you wanted. The problem is... I was never a leopard to begin with. I was always wearing stripes. And I never did too good with whole... lone-thing. What animal am I? 'Cause it certainly isn't a tiger."

Lance had no reply to that and he and the two uniforms found their own way out.

"I'm sorry," Laurel said as they made there way back upstairs. "I had no idea my dad was going to do something like this."

"He was right on one count though," Tommy sighed with shame. "I did bribe that guy."

But Laurel shook her head. "This was about our past; he wouldn't have brought out the jackboots otherwise. I really am sorry. Maybe we all can have lunch sometime?"

"That would be great, Laurel." Oliver said genuinely and the pair waved her out.

Tommy promptly slumped onto the closest cocktail table with and exhaustive relief.

"Thank you." Oliver sat across from him.

Tommy raised his head. "What for?"

"For being here. If you weren't with me, I would be in prison right now. Before now. You saved me, so many times that I've lost count."

"I told you that I would be your beard, your chameleon disguise for the world." Tommy told him.

Oliver shook his head. "It's more than just that. You've gone beyond what's expected. I was so scarred when you found out my secret you would turn your back on me, condemn me. I know it was just fear and self-doubt talking—but it would break me if you weren't with me, thought me a murderer."

"It's okay to be afraid. Just don't let it show and don't let it control you." Tommy murmured. He took a breath. "I'm afraid all the time, Oliver. I've just gotten good a disguising it over the years, just like you, too. Every time you put on The Hood and go out. But instead of freaking you out with my freak-out, I do something useful, like run the club. It's one less thing on your plate that you have to worry about and distract you. It's something that I want to do, and it's something that I think I'm good at."

"You are, Tommy. This club wouldn't be here without you. You were right when you said I didn't know crap about running a club, but the same could not be said for you. This is your club more than it is mine. I'm just the money and the name, but you're the soul of this place."

"It means a lot that you actually said it." Tommy admitted.

"I'm here for you, too, Tommy. I always will be." Oliver promised. "You are my best-friend in life. My blood-brother."

"Your friendship saved me from my own island a long time ago, Oliver. Way before we even knew islands existed in that sense."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, letting it be still and settle after the harrowing events of the issued warrant.

"Since we're having such a great moment here," Tommy spoke up. "There was actually something that I've been meaning to talk to you about?"

"Actually, can it wait?" A light bulb suddenly lit up behind Oliver's eyes. "I think you were right. I need to call Felicity. I think I know how to get a lead on The Count. I believe that you were right about him no longer being the producer of this new Vertigo, but he's definitely a big part of this puzzle still." He pulled out his cell phone and headed back towards the back hall.

"Sure," Tommy heaved a sigh and pillowed his head on his folded arms. "It'll probably be better if we have it when you're not as distracted."

"Thanks, buddy!" he called back distractedly.

 **X**

"Felicity?" Tommy called as he jumped down the stairs. "What's wrong? What's the 9-1-1?"

Felicity was set up on a single table with her tablet, working off the Ethernet cable. "Long story still pretty long: Diggle's having a secret meeting that Oliver doesn't know about, about Deadshot—and I can't get a hold of him."

"Shit, Felicity, that's not good!" Tommy exclaimed.

"I know!" she cried. "I can't get a hold of Diggle and I lost comms. with Oliver-"

"Why didn't you lead with that? Never mind! Give me a location on Oliver, Felicity." Tommy ordered, quickly putting in an earwig. He started slipping his knives onto his person. "Use the tracker you helped me put in his boot. Remember?"

"Shoot! I can't believe I forgot about that." She cursed quietly. "Alright. He _is_ at Starling County Institute for Mental Health. Or at least his boot is. But it stands to reason that Oliver is where his boot is. Tommy," she turned to him. "What are you going to do?"

"You are going to talk me to his location through comms. once I get to the institute." Tommy informed her, tucking a berretta into his waistband. The last time he held one, he killed someone. It wasn't something he wanted to do again, but just like last time, if it was a choice between Oliver and someone else, there was really no thought needed. "And I am going go... and save Oliver." He took a deep breath and quickly went for the South ground exit. "Keeping calling Diggle and send his ass our way!" he called before the door slammed shut.

" _This is a time when speed-dial is our friend,"_ her voice came over the comm.

...

"Felicity, talk to me." Tommy said quietly through the comm., staring down the dim, dank basement tunnel, a throwing knife ready in each hand. It had been surprisingly easy to break in, which he was grateful for at the moment, and would be concerned about later.

" _From the basement blueprints of the building that I was able to pull,"_ Felicity answered, " _Oliver's tracker puts him north-west, 20 meters, then go north 5-"_

"I was never a Boy Scout, Felicity." Tommy deadpanned. "Talk to me in English, okay? I'm assuming you mean straight, seeing as either left or right are walls." He started forward.

" _You are definitely not a Boy Scout,"_ Felicity remarked, " _Not that you wouldn't look adorable in a neckerchief or those little shorts. Not that I'm picturing what you would look like in little shorts, now or otherwise. Not that you wouldn't look good if you did- and yes, straight is a very accurate alternative."_

"Alright." Tommy paused at the corner, out of sight at the connecting junction. "Turning right, right?"

" _Right._ " Felicity agreed. " _Are you sure you're not a closet Boy Scout?"_

"Definitely not." Tommy stopped at a doorway as he heard voices. "I hear voices," he whispered.

 _"Can you see Oliver?"_ her own voice was hushed and concerned in return.

Tommy quickly peeked inside. He silently cursed. "I can't see them, but I can hear them." Tommy slipped into the room, carefully slipping through the slit in the plastic sheet that was hung up. He saw the Vertigo cooking station and beyond that, two of the hospital's staff crowded around a medical chair. He couldn't see Oliver, but he would recognize those green leathers anywhere. "Diggle better be on his way, Felicity, because I can't wait for him."

Felicity response was drown out as Oliver triggered one of his explosive arrows. In the perusing confusion, Tommy took advantage and jumped onto the back of the large male nurse, his knives stabbing into the meaty flesh of his shoulders. The nurse roared in pain and stumbled back, crushing Tommy into the metal cabinets that lined one wall.

Tommy lost his anchor on the knives and the large man. He quickly reached for the berretta in his belt as the burly nurse shook him off. He was bringing to weapon up, ready to pull the trigger when the man spun, knocking the gun away with a beefy arm. It misfired, the bullet burying in the concrete wall opposite.

" _Tommy? Tommy!"_ Felicity was shouting worriedly in his ear.

The guy grabbed his shirt and his belt and then proceeded to literally throw him across the room. He crashed into one of the cooking tables; beakers and jars smashed to the ground. Tommy groaned, pulling himself up when he was struck across the back with a stray IV pole.

Tommy tried to roll away under the cover of the steel table as the nurse went for another strike, trying to fight the seize in his back. He was sure he wasn't going to make it—but against all he did, and much to his confusion he didn't hear the empty strike against the floor, instead a heavy thump. When he looked over, he saw the large nurse dead on the floor where he had just been.

"Done hiding under the table, Merlyn?" Diggle said.

Tommy looked out to see the bodyguard present, dropping a pair of defibrillator paddles. That explained a lot. He picked up Tommy's gun.

"Check your phone more often, pal." Tommy panted as he accepted the offered hand up. "This isn't a 9 to 5 kind of gig; it's on-call 24/7. Felicity, Diggle's here." He reported.

Diggle just gave a nod. "Where's Oliver?"

"Last I saw he was strapped to the scary chair." Tommy side-stepped Diggle. "Which he is no longer." He touched the broken leather cuffs as he looked around. "I was kind of getting pummelled by Donkey Kong over there to pay attention to much else. Shit!" he spotted the quiver on the floor, its arrows scattered; but he didn't see his bow. He picked up the injector arrow and showed Diggle, "This is a good thing, right? He was dosed, but he took the antidote."

"We should find him." Diggle said.

"There was another doctor here." Tommy grimaced at the green puddle and quickly gathered the arrows and quiver, and quickly followed the other man.

They found Oliver in the next room, standing over The Count, out of his basket, strapped to a similar chair as Oliver had been.

"Looks like I'm the last one standing. Sitting. Spinning." The Count said. "Something to do. What was I going to do? Memory not what it once was. Nothing what it once was. Is there a name on the gravestone. No. It's new and clean and waiting..." it was utter gibberish yet it sounded very ominous.

"Oliver?" Diggle asked.

Oliver looked over, and the pair shared a look. "We're finished here." He said.

"Let's get out of here." Tommy took Oliver's bow without trouble, which showed either how out of it Oliver was feeling or how trusting. "You two have a lot to talk about, I'm sure." He looked between Oliver and Diggle. "We all do, actually."

 **X**

Tommy wanted nothing more than to load up on Advil and sleep for an entire day—but he needed to take advantage the drug accusation situation opened for him.

Tommy walked into his father's office. "I'd prefer it if we could skip the I-told-you-so's, but the nightclub wasn't really working out. Oliver and I are just too different in opinion. I need something that's... more to my pedigree." He looked to Malcolm at the window bay. "I want a job, the one I was always supposed to have. I'm done running. I want to come home." The lie was smooth on his tongue even as it tasted bitter.

"What you did with the club… It shows me some of what you're capable when you apply yourself. But I think you're capable of so much more than just club manager, Tommy." Malcolm turned to him. "The time for play is over."

"You told me before that there was so much that you wanted to tell me, to teach me." Tommy took a deep inhale. "I'm ready."

Malcolm gave him a steady, intense stare; Tommy did not fidget under its heavy weight, refused to look away from the challenge. A smirk upturned the corner of his dad's lips at his response. He stepped towards his son and embraced him, "Welcome home, son."

Tommy had been right; everyone had been against his plan, particularly Oliver and Felicity. But this was their only fashion for a lead on The Dark Archer, The Undertaking and everything else connected in the web. And Tommy was the only one in the position to do it.

 _f_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _Definitely better than when our best-friends in life broke up, right? I really love doing those Toliver heart-to-heart moments. :) That bit in the show where Tommy said it was because of the vents, I never really did believe that was genuine_ — _so that was my take on it. What do you think putting Tommy in the frontline and at the enemy's side?_

* * *

 **DELTED TEXT:**

TOMMY: "I lie to you all the time."

OLIVER: "What?"

TOMMY: "You think I like it when you go out there? No. But what alternative is there? Do you think I can stand to lose you again? To have you alive and here, my best-friend in life. Just the thought makes me sick. Why do you think I couldn't let you rot in prison either? This is who your are now, we've both changed. I've accepted that and I hope you can see the same in me. I might not have been on an actual island but it sure as hell felt like it."

 **x**


	20. Chapter 20: Home Invasion

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 20 - "Home Invasion"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Personal and professional cross streams and in the confusion, someone's bound to drown._

 **aRROW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Home Invasion"**

"Let me get this straight..." Tommy held up his hands. "Your ex-wife works for the same company that kidnapped Oliver and forced him into two-years of servitude—the same A.R.G.U.S. that basically turned him into a killing machine. That same A.R.G.U.S.?"

"Yes." Diggle intoned.

Tommy looked over at Oliver. "And we're not going to talk about it? Not even a little?"

"We talked about it a little right now." Oliver said. "I think that's enough."

"Sure, 'cause it's not something that should be addressed for sanity's sake." Tommy noted sarcastically.

"What are you even doing here, Merlyn?" Diggle questioned. "Don't you have a 'real job' now?"

"I'm taking an extended lunch break." Tommy replied tartly. "Oliver and I have a lunch-date—with Laurel. It's been in the works for a while now and he's not backing out of it." He gave said man a pointed look. "Actually," he held up a brief finger and looked to the other blond in the lair, "Felicity?"

"Yes?" she looked surprised to be drawn into the topic of conversation.

He smiled at her. "You should come. Save me the embarrassment of being the third-wheel. We could make it a double-date! What do you say?" Tommy held his breath, waiting for her answer. It was asked in a friendly and casual manner and he did feel friendly toward her, but he was hoping for something more than that; romantic. Maybe this was the first steps towards that. If Felicity could handle the drama that was Oliver and Laurel, she could handle damn well anything.

"It's not a date," Oliver grumbled.

Tommy completely ignore him, his focus on a much prettier blond.

"It's like getting invited to the cool-kids' table!" Felicity stammered a bit, her cheeks reddening under his intense blue-gaze, "It's just... I should be here if any more communications concerning Deadshot come through A.R.G.U.S." She finished in a small voice.

He hide his disappointment like a trooper. "I didn't think I was that bad of company," Tommy mumbled in a hurt tone.

Felicity look horrified at the accusation. "You're not! Oh, gosh. You're not. You're great, Tommy!"

Tommy gave her a mega-watt smile. "Then it's decided, a double-not-date!" he picked up her purse.

"What are you-?" she started when he took her hand, pulling her from the computer chair; she stumbled against him lightly. "Oh, hum... I can- I can take my purse."

"I _can_ carry it; I'm very confident in my sexuality." He gave her a wink but handed the purse back. He looked back at Oliver, "That means I'll grab your hand, too, buddy."

"I think I can manage on my own," Oliver shook his head with a chuckle.

"You need help, Merlyn." Diggle shook his head. "While you guys are doing... that, I'm going to go see what I can get out of Lyla."

Tommy led the way out. He kept hold of her hand and it wasn't like she pulled it free.

...

When they got to CNRI, Laurel was in the company of her father, a couple uniformed officers, and a recent orphan as of that morning.

"Laurel, hey." Tommy called. "We heard what happened on the radio over."

"Hey. Felicity, I didn't know you were coming, too." Laurel gave them a sad smile as she approached the group. "Sorry I didn't call-"

Oliver shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He promised. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Ms. Lance," the social worker interrupted, her hand on Taylor Moore's shoulder. "If you want to say goodbye to Taylor I'll be taking him to Child Services."

"He doesn't have any family?" Laurel questioned, hugging the boy.

"Grandparents in Melbourne. We tracking them down. Until then he's gonna be a temporary ward of the state."

"He can stay with me." Laurel decided, pulling the boy with her. "As his attorney I am assigning myself temporary guardianship."

"You'll need a court order."

"I'll have it to you within the hour," she said confidently.

"You always have to stick yourself in the middle of it, don't you?" Lance joined his daughter.

"I'm not just going to let some stranger take him. He's still my client." Laurel defended.

"Alright." Lance sighed, rubbing a hand over his hair. "I'm posting units at your apartment-"

"You can stay at my place." Oliver blurted.

"Excuse me?" Lance demanded.

"The Queens have more security than the president." Tommy explained, taking a step forward. "They've got cameras everywhere, bodyguards in every wing and no one goes in or out without being accounted for."

"No." Lance shook his head. "My men know how to do their jobs and if this bastard tries again, they're going to take care of it."

"Dad, they're right." Laurel said. "You don't have to like it, but I think it will be the safest thing for Taylor until I can put Edward Rasmus away."

"Okay, baby."

Laurel looked to Oliver. "Thank you. Are you sure it's okay?"

"Of course," Oliver promised. He put his hand on her arm, "Tommy will take you to your apartment to get your things and take you to the mansion. I need to drop Felicity back and make some calls."

Laurel nodded. "It's settled then. Come on, Taylor." She lead him away.

"Sorry about lunch," Tommy told Felicity before they parted. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Tommy, that-" she started to decline, then said in a breath. "Would be great."

 **X**

"Oliver, what they hell are you still doing here?" Tommy hissed in a hushed tone as soon as they were left alone, Moira and Laurel finally heading off. "You stopped Rasmus before he could leave, there's still time to make the Deadshot meeting."

But Oliver shook his head. "Rasmus might be in custody, but his assassin is still out there. I need to be here. Even with his boss out of commission, our Mr. Blank still might want to burn off the loose ends."

"That's what Mr. Robbins and the other dozen trained security guards stationed around the house are for!" Tommy exclaimed, his arm flying out. "Diggle hand-picked them himself so you know they're good for it. And if the military-trained bodyguards aren't enough, I'm the second line of defence."

"I can't." Oliver persisted. "This is were I need to be."

"Where you need to be is decidedly not here." Tommy countered. "It's where Diggle thinks you are and that definitely isn't here in the family room at your mansion, it's the plaza where Lyla is getting a meet with another assassin. And it's where you need to be right now to take out Deadshot for good this time, and let Diggle finally put his brother to rest."

Oliver just shook his head and walked out of the room, heading upstairs and towards Laurel. "Diggle will understand,"

"Goddamnit, Oliver!" Tommy cursed. He pulled out his cell and speed-dialled Diggle as he headed out the door. He cussed when it went to voicemail. He tried another number. "Felicity! I can't get a hold of Diggle, you gotta-"

" _It's too late, Tommy."_ Felicity said quietly.

...

"Shit!" Tommy said as soon as entered the lair and saw Felicity trying to triage Diggle's head wound. "What the hell happened? Here," he dipped into the first aid kit and took over for Felicity.

"Oliver didn't show up, that's what." Diggle growled, his eye scrunching as Tommy swabbed the cut above his brow with disinfectant.

"To be fare, the assassin did take one last hurray after Taylor," Tommy said. "He killed several of the security men, but he didn't make it passed Oliver." Diggle sent him a stink-eye. "I'm not defending him, I'm just telling you, you know how he gets when Laurel's involved. If she's in any kind of trouble, that's all he sees; everything else turns to white noise." He closed the wound with a few steri-strips.

"He couldn't have left the assassin to you?" Diggle said.

Tommy blinked at him. "I didn't think that was a sentence I'd ever hear." He started to pack up the kit. "I suppose you mean that in the sense that Mr. Blank was a 'low-rate' assassin, and Deadshot's a 'high-class' assassin—I'm getting better, but I don't think I could take on an assassin of any kind just yet."

"You took care of Helena just fine and she knew how to fight." Diggle remarked.

Tommy stilled for a second at the reminder. "That's different," he replied in a monotone, "I took her by surprise, I shot her in the back. She had no idea I was there, she never even knew it was the 'pet' that killed her."

Felicity sent Diggle an angry look. "Tommy, man-" Diggle started to rise.

"No, no." Tommy turned back to him, normal inflections back in his tone. "You get to be angry, Diggle. Hell, I'm pissed at Oliver on your behalf."

"Maybe he should start training you with the bow—then we wouldn't have to worry about it. He could be in two places at once."

"That-"

"Starling City doesn't need two Hoods." Oliver entered. He looked to Diggle, "Hey, I wanted to explain." Oliver started. "I had to reprioritize, I had no choice-"

"If it was just the two of us, maybe, _maybe_ then I might understand. But you're not alone, Oliver, it's not just us. If you were so worried about Laurel, you could have left Tommy at mansion while you were at the Plaza, but you didn't." Diggle's arms crossed. "You said Starling doesn't need two Hoods, then you follow it up with a scenario that could have done with two Hoods and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Dig-"

"Yeah, that choice of yours got four agents killed." He stood. "Deadshot would have killed Lyla if I hadn't got to her in time. He had me, right in front of him, literally on my knees, at his mercy, just like my brother. The only thing that saved me was some messed up code that he wasn't getting paid for the hit."

"Taylor was relying on me."

Diggle shook his head. "This was never about that kid, this was about Laurel. Tommy was right when he said if it's anything concerning her everything else is just white noise to you." He put a finger to the blond's chest. "But we're not whit enoise, Oliver! Deadshot is not white noise. You could have put an end to that maniac like you promised me, now he's in the wind and there might not be a second chance." He dropped his arm.

"John," Felicity started.

"You made your choice. Fine. But now so have I." And Diggle walked out. "Don't expect to see me again."

"I didn't mean _that_ angry!" Tommy shouted helplessly after him. He look over at Oliver, "Go after him!"

"The only way to stop him would have been to put an arrow in him." Oliver was tight-jawed, and angered-stiff. "He made his choice."

"Everything he said was right," Tommy argued. "And you're just going to dismiss him?"

Oliver ignored him. "Anything you want to add?" he looked to Felicity beside his best-friend.

She rose her chin and glared back. "Nothing you want to hear."

"Good," Oliver turn his back. "Because this topic is finished."

 _f_

* * *

 **aRROW**

 _I had the idea of Tommy taking out Mr. Blank in the first round at Laurel's apartment and that translating into Oliver making that meeting with Deadshot and Diggle never leaving Team Hood temporarily_ — _but where's the drangst (drama/angst) in that? ;)_

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

LAUREL: "The Hood just saved our lives. We can trust him. He won't let anything happen to me. **And he has a thing for Tommy, too. "**

...

"I'm brining Laurel over," Tommy declared without preamble into the phone.

" _I'm sorry, what_?" Oliver questioned, distracted.

"Laurel and the kid need a safe-haven, and that's the mansion, meaning you a.k.a The Hood. I know you're busy with Diggle's Deadshot situation so I was just giving you a heads-up."

...

"So that meeting's tonight," Tommy opened, finding Oliver alone in the study.

Oliver looked over from window seat, rain tapping the glass panes.

x


	21. Chapter 21: The Undertaking

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 21 - "The Undertaking"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Team Hood works to bring a missing family member home, and Tommy presses forward in his personal life, and his mission._

 **aRROW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "The Undertaking"**

"Should I be jealous?" Tommy whispered in her ear, following her gaze upward where Oliver was doing a core-workout on the ceiling.

Felicity yelped in surprise, flailing in her computer chair; Tommy had to jump back otherwise be whacked in the face. "What? No!" she gripped the armrests with white-knuckles, panting; she puffed a loose strand of hair from her face. "What?" she fixed her glasses.

"I mean, you were pretty focused." He nodded his chin upward.

"If you took your shirt off I'll stare." She said. Her eyes widened as she realized what she said. "I mean-"

Tommy smirked and set the folder he was carrying down. "All you had to do was ask..." and he teasing dropped his hands to the hem of his t-shirt, slowly pulling it up from his shorts' waistband.

Felicity's gaze instantly dropped and she swallowed. "What are you doing? Not here!" she hissed at him. Tommy chuckled softly and her gaze darted up to meet his eyes and her cheeks flushed. "Unh..."

"No, I get it." He dropped his shirt and saw the flash of disappointment behind her glasses, and it encouraged him. "And I accept."

"I don't understand." She admitted.

"You have to let the wine breathe before you taste." Tommy brushed the loose strand of her hair back again. "Will you have dinner with me, Felicity?"

"Oh," she gasped softly, staring back up at him. "Yeah, okay. I mean, yes, Tommy. I would like that."

Tommy smiled. "It's a date then."

"Ahem." Oliver dropped down from the ceiling, grabbing a towel. "You're early."

"Yeah," Tommy finally looked from Felicity to his best-friend. "Dad left Merlyn Global early for a 'meeting', so I took advantage and did some snooping in through the business records that I've gained access to." He tapped the folder he had set on Felicity's desk. She opened it up.

"What is it?" Oliver asked.

"Sagittarius." Felicity read the header name. "It's the same company that The Dark Archer's shaft composite is patented to—his arrows—to the company."

"My dad's." Tommy nodded. "It's his version of Tempest. But I found out that the patent isn't the only activity on the name. Check out page three and go from there." Oliver leaned around Felicity's chair to get his own look as she flipped through the copied pages. "Unlike Tempest, that was created three-years ago for what we assume was _The Queen's Gambit_ salvage; Sagittarius was birthed months before five years ago and the first thing it started doing..."

"Buying up property in the Glades," Oliver straightened.

"And buying a lot of it, by the looks of this thickness." Felicity noted, and started to scan the pages onto her computer.

"It was a lot of pages," Tommy agreed. "I was scared I was going to get caught out at the photo copier. Surprise, I now know how to use a photo copier."

"Holy smokes!" Felicity gaped at the screen.

"What is it?" Oliver questioned.

"It's a lot of paper—and nearly the entirety of the 24 block-radius that makes up the Glades!"

Tommy took up her other side and looked at the screen with a property map of the Glades, most of which was red. "Are you telling me that the red is my dad?"

Felicity nodded. "The Dark Archer _owns_ the Glades." She shuddered. "He's been buying property up under the radar for years."

"And we're back to the Glades," Oliver uttered, running his hand through his sweat-damp hair. "Alright, what about these areas?" he pointed. "They're not in red, why? Something tells me The Dark Archer wouldn't be against a little pressure against holdouts."

"This is Verdant." Felicity pointed. "As we know, your father's shut down factory, it's still in his name, and now yours. This is Tommy's mother's clinic."

"Which dear old dad tried to get me to shut down, too." Tommy said. "But I'm never going to."

"And these few other pieces, let's see..." Felicity typed and looked over at Oliver in surprise at the results. "It looks like these other properties are in locked ownership in Robert Queen's name."

"My dad?" Oliver was just as surprised.

She nodded. "It looks like he purchased them just two weeks shy of his death."

Oliver stepped away, opening his Chinese crate.

"Oliver?" Tommy asked.

Oliver gripped the notebook. "Malcolm must have figured it out. Dad was trying to buy properties out from under him, and then the sudden sailing trip to China." He shook his head and turned to the pair. "It makes sick sense."

"I'm sorry, Oliver." Tommy whispered.

"What are you talking about, Tommy? You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Everything that's happened to you—it's because of _my_ father, Oliver!" Tommy cried in dismay. "Everything my dad's done, everything you suffered... how can you still be friends with me?"

"Hey, hey!" Oliver grasped his shoulder. "You're the one who told me that we are not our parents' mistakes. You are nothing like Malcolm Merlyn; you are kind and loving, funny, you're loyal." He taped his chest over his heart with the list. "Those are things that your father is not."

"I'm a killer, just like him." He whispered.

"You saved me, Tommy." Oliver countered. "That is not the act of a killer."

Tommy looked into the unchanging eyes of his best-friend. He inhaled deeply and nodded. "It's just hard, being around him every day, having to go home to him. My guard has to be up all the time, but it can't appear that way. The time I get to let my guard down is in the lair—which is ironic."

"Didn't you once tell me, and I quote: You starred in several productions during high school and got rave reviews?" Oliver reminded and Tommy gave him a snort.

"Subtle."

Oliver gave a one-shouldered shrug. "You got this, Tommy. And as soon as you're ready, you won't be getting a prop, but the real-thing. So you need to keep training."

"Didn't you see? I came prepared!" And he gave the two blonds a twirl.

"You have very nice legs, Tommy." Felicity laughed.

Tommy chuckled. "That's not the only nice thing about me," he gave her a wink.

"Alright." Oliver shook his head, even if he wore an amused look. "I'm going to go cross Harold Backman off the list. He's where the dirtiest and badest go to get their money laundered in the Caymans. And _you_ are going to slap water."

 **A**

Diggle looked up from his fries with a sigh as Tommy slid into the booth across from him. "No, thanks. I already have company, Merlyn." And pointedly stabbed a frie into ketchup before eating it.

"What about a threesome?" Felicity slid onto the bend next to company. "That's not what I meant. For company. Platonic company, not sexual. You both know exactly what I mean."

"We do." Tommy stretched his arm across the back of the bench and behind the blond's shoulders. "Besides, I don't plan on sharing you." He whispered to her.

"Tommy!" she protested as Diggle watched them with a raised brow.

"Did Oliver send you to plead his case; he couldn't even come himself?" Diggle addressed the elephant.

Felicity cleared her throat and looked across at him. "Oliver doesn't know that we're here."

"What is this then?"

"We got a lead on Walter." Felicity informed him. "Oliver got a laptop from a money launderer and I traced a large deposit back to the date that Walter was taken. We got a name. I need you to come back and help us."

"Look, Felicity," Diggle sighed. "I'm happy that you've finally found a lead on Walter, that's why you joined in the first place—but I'm done."

"You can't just be done." Tommy scoffed. "Felicity joined because of Walter, but you joined because you wanted to help people. And you're just going to walk away?"

"Being a part of Team Hood isn't the only way to help people."

"Look, Oliver took your advice, he's started to train me to use a bow-"

"And that just suddenly makes up for it?"

"I know Oliver didn't help you find your bother's killer and that hurts and sucks." Felicity said. "Bu you gotta know if it was your life on the line and not just your very understandable vendetta, he would be there for you. No hesitation."

"And I don't want a partnership with those kind of qualifications, Felicity." Diggle stood, abandoning his fries. "I'm sorry."

"Diggle!" Tommy protested. "He needs you, even if he won't say it."

"This is your chance, Tommy." Diggle rapped the tabletop. "He really doesn't need me anymore."

Tommy slumped in the seat. "This isn't how it was supposed to go."

"But it has." And he left the pair.

"That went as well as expected." Tommy sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"He'll come around." Felicity said. "They both will."

"I hope you're right." Tommy said. "It's going to be a busy night. You ready for this?"

"I grew up in Vegas," she told him. "I'm ready for this."

"I have to get back to the office and you have to get dolled up." He smiled, "But not before we get milkshakes!"

 **RR**

"Hey, I came as soon as I got your text." Tommy said as arms enveloped his torso. "Hey, hey." He hushed as Felicity pressed her face into his shoulder, still wearing her dress from the casino job. "It's going to be alright." He wrapped his arms around her.

She shook her head. "Walter's dead. After all this time..." she sniffled into his shoulder. "He's dead, Tommy."

"Oliver?" Tommy called.

"Here." Oliver said quietly from where he sat on the floor, still in his green leather.

Tommy swallowed; the last time he'd seen Oliver anything like this, was when The Dark Archer put him in the hospital, the same night Walter had been taken. "Oliver, you're not going to like this."

"What is it?" he wondered listlessly.

"I think Walter is still alive."

"What?" Oliver head snapped up.

"But-" Felicity started, lifting her head from his shoulder and shaking her head.

"While the two of you were at the casino, Moira paid my dad a visit. I didn't hear much, just the tail-end. Dad was celebrating something," Tommy gave a shudder, "That's never a good thing. Something about a device, your dad and my mom. I didn't hear much before Laurel surprised me-"

"Laurel?" Oliver questioned.

"Not the point right now," Tommy waved his hand. "I believe Walter's still alive. And you're going to have to cause your mother a lot of pain before you can heal this wound."

...

"You were right." Oliver returned to the lair, pushing his Hood down. "As soon as I told her, she ran to Malcolm. He made a call right to whoever he has holding Walter before he showed my mom a video feed. Can you trace it, Felicity?"

"On it." Felicity quickly pulled the number and did a trace. "The call he made was to a tenement complex located in Blüdhaven."

"Christ!" Tommy said. "That's 8 blocks from here."

"Can you pull up a satellite view?" Oliver asked, joining them at the computer hub.

"Yeah." Felicity hacked the satellite and brought up a view. "That's a lot of security for low-income housing. This is definitely the place. There's two guards stationed at all access points."

"That bastard!" Tommy cussed with pain and hatred. "He needs to be taken down, now."

"We will, Tommy." Oliver promised. "But first... we're bring Walter home where he belongs."

"And how exactly are you going to get into this place, Oliver?" Felicity wondered.

Oliver peered at the screen for a moment, studying it. "There's no one on the roof."

"Sorry to be the one to tell you this," Tommy said across Felicity's head. "But you can't fly, buddy."

"I'm not the one that's going to be flying, just falling."

"Excuse me?" Felicity looked up at him.

"I'm going to parachute onto the roof," Oliver informed them with a straight face.

"Wow. Okay." Tommy said because he wasn't sure what else he could say. "Better get going." He clapped the blond on the shoulder. "Bring Walter home."

Oliver nodded, grabbed his bow, and headed out. Tommy and Felicity shared a look.

"This is definitely a new one," Felicity said.

It was an anxious hour later that they watched as Oliver parachuted onto the roof through the cover of darkness and take out the first guard on the outside stair.

Tommy leaned forward, palms on the tabletop as he watched the feed from the satellite. "I knew I was right, I just really hoped that I wasn't. I shouldn't have expected anything from him." He hung his head.

"It's not your fault, Tommy." Felicity whispered, rubbing his shoulder.

He looked over at her with a sad smile. "You sure you still wanna have dinner with me?"

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed. "Honestly, I've been waiting for you to ask properly since the Christmas party."

"Really?"

"Don't act so surprised."

"I am." He said genuinely. Then teased, "A good girl like you?"

"I'll have you know, just a couple hours ago I was counting cards in a seedy underground casino. I'm a bad girl!" she paused. "That sounded more dirty than I meant it." Tommy just laughed lightly and shook his head. She gave him a genuine smile, "Your father isn't going to change that."

" _I've got eyes on Walter."_ Oliver's voice came over the comm.

Felicity instantly keyed back, "Is he okay?"

"You better put in an anonymous call to the police and emergency services," Oliver reported. He turned on his voice modulator, "Walter? Mr. Steele."

" _What's happening?"_ they heard the quite static of Walter's response over the comms. Felicity gave a chocked gasp of relief at the sound. " _Oliver?"_

"Oliver, did he just recognize you?" Tommy exclaimed.

Oliver didn't answer him. " _You're going home._ " The Hood said, and he disconnected comms.

"Oliver? Oliver? Shit!" Tommy cursed when there was no response. He paced anxiously. "Did Walter just recognize Oliver, Felicity?"

"It sounded like it."

"Shit!" Tommy shouted again.

...

"Well?" Tommy jumped to his feet as soon as Oliver returned. "Did Walter recognize you?"

"Yes." Oliver put away his bow and quiver, and started to strip out of his leather.

"And?" Tommy pressed when the man didn't seem inclined to continue. "Why aren't you more worried about this?"

"What do you want to say, Tommy?" Oliver asked in exasperation. "Walter recognized me. It wasn't part of the plan, but he did."

"How was he?" Felicity asked.

"He appeared better than expected." Oliver slipped on a long-sleeve. "He didn't ask much, I think he just wasn't up for it, not after what he went through. He was just happy to get out of there."

"You didn't even try to convince him that he was imagining things?" Tommy wondered, "You probably could have pulled it off."

"He'd been through enough. He deserved some truth. I told him that if he asked, I would tell him the truth. But he told me he was done with the book, and he hoped we would be careful." Oliver said.

"We?" Felicity asked. "What do you mean: we? You said 'we'." She pointed at him.

"Stop freaking-out, Felicity." He said calmly. "He knows you came to me with the notebook, he's glad you did, otherwise he would still be in that cell."

She breathed in relief. "I thought he might be upset."

"You helped him, Felicity." Tommy rubbed her back. "If you never went to Oliver, we never would have known of the connection—we never would have found him."

Oliver nodded. "He's at the hospital by now, mom will get a call soon, and we'll go to the hospital."

"Would I be able to go with you?" Felicity asked. "Or is that weird? That would be weird and awkward. I've only met your mother once and the last time I talked to Mr Steele-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Felicity." He told her. "Walter would love to see you."

 **OW**

By the time the three of them made it to Starling General, there was already a group hug going on between Moira, Thea, and Walter in the bed.

"Is this a family thing or can anyone join?" Felicity blurted in awkward excitement from between Tommy and Oliver at the foot of the bed, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Felicity," Walter gave her unaffected smile.

"It's so good to hear your voice, I've missed that smooth British lilt." Felicity gave a huge smile. "Um," she said at the stares. "That was a completely innocent compliment between boss and employee."

"Friend." Walter corrected her. "And I would love a hug."

"Really? Never mind," Felicity handed the flowers to Tommy and quickly took Thea's place.

"He's home, Ollie." Thea hugged her brother, looking over back towards her step-father. "After the news you gave us today..."

"I'm just glad that it was wrong." Oliver said quietly, rubbing her back.

"Now Tommy just has to move back in," Thea looked over at the dark-haired young man. "And the family will be whole again."

Tommy gave a soft chuckle. "You sure know how to guilt 'em, Speedy."

"Does that mean in worked?"

"Sorry, kiddo." Tommy kissed her hair. Even as he wished he could.

"I'm so happy we finally found you." Felicity whispered before pulling back.

"Thank you, Felicity." Walter gave her hand a squeeze before she stepped back.

"I got you flowers," she took them from Tommy and handed them to Moira. "And this is my cue to go. I'm going to let you all get back to the hugging."

"Do you want me to drive you?" Tommy asked as he gave the blond a hug outside the door.

"I'm okay, I have my Mini." Felicity said, and left down the hall.

"So, do I get a hug, too?" Tommy asked as he stepped back into the room. "I'm the only one who hasn't gotten one yet, I feel left out."

"Always the attention seeker," Thea chuckled, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed.

"Of course, Thomas."

Tommy grinned as he bent and gave the gowned man a hug.

"It's good to have you home, Walter." Oliver said.

Walter gave him a nod. "It's good to be home, son."

"Now all you have to do is bring Diggle back," Tommy murmured aside to him; Oliver shot him a glower.

...

"Tommy," Malcolm greeted them when the pair stepped out of the room. "Oliver. What a miracle. How's Walter?" he asked. "The police say he was rescued by the vigilante."

"Yes." Oliver flickered his eyes towards Tommy before he nodded. "He was."

"Has he said anything about his ordeal?" he questioned with innocent interest. "Was he able to identify any of his captors?"

"No." Oliver said shortly.

"That's too bad," he murmured.

"They'll gets what coming to them." Oliver promised. "I'm just happy right now that my family is finally back together again."

"We all are." Malcolm gave a smile.

"Dad, can I get a ride home with you? I came with Oliver." Tommy interrupted.

"Of course," Malcolm said.

"Tommy-" Oliver started.

"There's Laurel," Tommy interrupted, nodding his head towards the end of the hall. "Pretty sure she's here for you." And he gave his best-friend a helpful shove towards the lawyer; it was bound to be an interesting encounter if the conversation they had when she had surprised him at Merlyn Global was anything to go by. "It's good that Walter's home," Tommy said on their ride down in the elevator.

"It is." Malcolm agreed.

The conversation took a rapid turn after they got into the car, the partition for the driver up. "I'm sure this is bad news for you," Tommy said.

"What's that?" Malcolm wondered, looking over at him.

Tommy inhaled through his nose and looked back. "The Hood finding Walter, of course." He saw the minute tightening around his father's lips and eyes in reaction. "You had him kidnapped, after all."

Malcolm chuckled. "Why would you say something like that?"

"I overheard you and Moira," Tommy said plainly and his father stopped laughing.

"If you really did witness this conversation, why didn't you go straight to the police?" Malcolm didn't make any denials.

"The same reason I didn't when I found out you were The Dark Archer." Tommy reply evenly.

"Hm." Malcolm seemed amused by the name.

"You showed me the weird costume, but not anything of consequence." Tommy pushed forward. "You say you're doing this for me, but I don't even know what 'it' is. Dad, I want to do this with you, I want to us to be a family again."

Malcolm regarded him for a long moment. "I think it's time to bring you further into the fold, son." His fingers drummed the door rest. "We're doing it for you, us, your mother, after all."

 _f_

* * *

 **aRROW**

 _Every time I watch the scene of The Hood rescuing Walter, I can always so easily picture Walter looking up and saying: "Oliver?" and then the 'Oh, shit' expression that would cross Oliver's face, LOL. And now I've finally had my way, not exactly how I had in mind (everything, of course, being on Tommy perspective), but still. :)_


	22. Chapter 22: Darkness on the Edge of Town

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 22 - "Darkness on the Edge of Town"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _Tommy begged his father to be more involved, and now he is, but he's put in a precarious position that could expose Team Hood and has to act accordingly._

 **aRROW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Darkness on the Edge of Town"**

Tommy gulped as he watched his father don his Dark Hood in his office at Merlyn Global. "What are you going to do?" he'd told his father that he wanted to be more involved and Malcolm had kept true to his promise. The recording of his mother dying had cemented what his father was doing and was not going to stop if asked nicely.

"Tie up some loose ends." Malcolm adjusted the strap of his quiver over his chest.

"You mean kill them." He corrected boldly, his fist clenched at his thigh.

"Tommy," Malcolm sighed. Tommy stood still as he approached and put a hand on his shoulder. "We've been over this, I thought you understood."

"Necessary sacrifice." Tommy forced himself not to choke on the two words. "I do, dad. I do. But-"

"No, buts..." Malcolm shook his head. "As soon as The Undertaking happens, these people will make the connection to us. I've interacted with them. They'll go to the police and this whole thing will have been for nothing, we'll never be able to fix it." He cupped his son's cheek, "We have to fix it, Tommy. Do you understand? Only we can."

"Yeah." Tommy clapped his wrist. "Yeah."

"Good man." Malcolm turned back to his cache and picked up his bow. "I'll be back within two hours."

"And I'll be here," he addressed his father's retreating back.

As soon as the door closed, Tommy sucked in a huge shuddering breath. "Shit!" He putted his hands over his face and scrubbed, trying to get his heart-pace back into acceptable rates before he had some sort of panic attack.

He stared at the little painting on the wall, beyond which lay the fingerprint and pass code pad, and beyond that lay his father's collective Dark Archer arsenal. He shivered. He may not be able to save those people that Malcolm was about to murder, but he sure as hell could take advantage of his father's absence.

Tommy left his father's office, and went quickly down the empty hall to his own. He stepped on the bottom slide on the door, locking it, before he pulled out his cell and quickly dialled. He paced in the large space as the line rung and continued to ring.

"Come on. Pick up, pick up!" he uttered.

" _Tommy!"_ Felicity answered happily. " _I did not forget about dinner. I cannot wait to be eaten out- I meant eat_ _ **ing**_ _outside, in a restaurant, with you, across from me. Like a normal couple, because_ _ **I**_ _am normal—I swear-"_

"Felicity!" Tommy interrupted her. "Dinner is going to have to wait."

" _What_?" she asked in dejection. " _But I was just about to leave QC_."

"Don't leave QC!" Tommy told her. "I need you at a computer, now. Preferably at QC."

" _Why? What's happening_?" she panted a little as he could hear the faint echo of her heeled steps.

"Are you there?"

" _Yes, accompanied with some weird looks from the night guard at the front desk in the lobby_." Felicity grumbled, " _Not that he has a leg to stand on. I mean, he has two legs, obviously, but I know he watches_ _porn_." She whispered the word just like it was naughty. " _I have access to the entire buildings' computer activity; glitches all the time!"_

"Great." Tommy inhaled. "Do you remember Unidac Industries?"

" _Um_ ," she paused briefly in thought. " _When I first met Oliver he brought me that shot-up laptop. It had the blueprints to the Exchange Building where Unidac was holding an auction for the company. Walter got the bid for Queen Consolidated."_

"Yes," he nodded. "My dad's been doing business with them."

" _What? But they're QC's."_

"On The Dark Archer's behalf." He supplied.

" _Oh._ " she said. " _ **Oh.**_ _That's not good."_

"It's not," he agreed. "He was overseeing one of their projects, connected to The Undertaking. He's over there right now, tying up loose ends. Can you hack into their network, pull their project contracts? Or better yet, can you access all that through the QC network?"

" _I should be able to pull it all up from QC's network_ ," Felicity voiced distractedly as she typed. " _It'll take me a few hours to go through it all, though._ "

"Okay." He exhaled heavily and slumped in the nearest conference chair at the table in his office. "Okay." He felt some of the weight shifted from his shoulders.

" _I guess this means dinner is off?_ "

"Not off, just... postponed. I'm sorry, Felicity." He whispered.

" _It's not your fault, we can always reschedule."_ she promised. _"Besides... I'd be jealous if you called some other blond computer genius with this."_

"You're the only computer genius I know, blond or otherwise." He swore. "You are my first and only call, Felicity Smoak. There's no one I know like you."

" _You always know exactly what to say, don't you_."

"Just calling it like I see it, darling." He replied smoothly. "Nothing but the truth."

" _Darling_?" she squeaked.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, straightening in the chair. "Is that a good squeak or a bad squeak?"

" _It's a different squeak_." Felicity admitted. " _No one's ever called me darling before. Well, besides my mom. But you're not my mom. Definitely not my mom. It would be weird if I had sexy feelings towards my mom—which I don't—just you, because you're sexy. And I think that we've established that I find you very, very, very attractive during this conversation—and that was too many very's_." She muttered to herself, and he could just picture her squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment and thumping her forehead.

"There can never be too many 'very's', Felicity." He teased with a chuckle. "It's one thing to think you're sexy, it's an entirely different thing when an incredible woman tells you. And I think 'darling' is _very_ suitable; you are beautiful inside and out, Felicity."

She hummed in response across the line and he could hear the faint click as she typed, there was just a quietness between them as they just listened to each other breathe.

"When you find something, call Oliver." Tommy finally said after a few stretched minutes.

 _"He's with Laurel."_ She blurted.

"He is?" Tommy asked in surprise. "Did she come to him or did he go to her?"

" _Him to her_."

"Wow," Tommy murmured. "I usually have to trick him into a room with her. Have I been gone so long that he finally grew a pair of heart-balls while I'm gone."

" _Heart-balls_?" she laughed. " _You actually transformed love into guy-speak_."

"Hm. I haven't been to the lair much since we got Walter back and I convinced dad to let me in more. I've been trying to keep up with the water slapping, but it's an activity that's a little difficult to do around the house inconspicuously with my dad watching my every move." Tommy mused, "I've taken to taking suspiciously long baths."

" _What_?" she was incredulous. " _How does that work_?"

"I pretty much just do it naked, Felicity." He said without preamble or shame.

" _Well_..." she stuttered, inhaling deeply. " _That's... nice_."

"I'm glad you think so." He grinned.

He heard her inhale deeply, fighting to urge to over explain and correct herself; he was surprised when she managed to say instead: " _I'll call Oliver when I find something, mid Laurel-session or not_." Felicity promised. " _Ack_!" she realized what she said. " _Bye, Tommy_."

"Goodnight, Felicity." He chuckled and hung up. He sighed, setting his cell on the conference table and leaning back in the chair.

His cell beeped. He sat up and picked it up. "Shit." It was about to die on him. Standing, he went and unlocked his office door before going around to his desk. He searched through the drawers until he found a charger and plugged his phone in. And then he went and poured himself a whiskey from the decanter and threw back two fingers, savouring the burn down his throat. He poured another before he put the decanter down, but he didn't drink and instead looked down into the amber liquid as he swirled it.

"Let's head home," Malcolm said.

Tommy started. He put down the whiskey and turned towards his father; out of The Dark Archer hood, and back into his slick suit. No one would suspect that he'd just been off... killing. "How- it went... okay?" Tommy asked. How had his life become asking his father how his _murder_ went?

"Now there's nothing to stop us from going ahead with The Undertaking," Malcolm said. "The device will be placed and-"

"And level the Glades." Tommy finished, trying to keep the horror contained. But Team Hood couldn't stop The Dark Archer until they knew _how_ he was going to do it.

"And then we'll rebuild." Malcolm put an arm around his shoulder and led him from the office.

...

And it was as Tommy lay in bed, fighting to fall asleep, that he realized he'd forgot his cell charging in his office at MG. He wondered if it would look suspicious if he went to get it now. He knew it would. Malcolm would wonder what could be so important that he couldn't wait until morning when he went to work; why he couldn't just use the house's landline if it was that urgent.

He'd painted himself into a corner, accidentally or not, and now he was forced to wait for the paint to dry.

 **X**

Another layer of paint was applied as he slept and Tommy never even made it to Merlyn Global Group before he was diverted to S.C.P.D. as a representative of his father's company to give the police anything they needed for their investigation of the slaughter at Unidac Industries the previous night. Apparently one of the victims made a call to one of the unclaimed lines at MG. He spent the entire afternoon being the-guy-who-worked-there-for-thirty-seconds.

When Lance finally dismissed him, he was trying to decide if he'd be able to make a pit-stop at the lair and figure out what the hell was going on—the stress was going to give him an ulcer—but his father's driver/bodyguard made the decision for him.

...

Tommy's cell was exactly where he'd left it on the charger at his desk. There were dozens of missed calls and messages. He clicked on the most recent, which was about an hour old. Felicity's voice was filled with urgency and sent Tommy running.

What the hell was Oliver thinking, going after Malcolm now, without even warning Tommy first—going after him _alone?_

He could hear the fight even before he got to his father's office doors.

"Dad-!" Tommy stopped short as watched his father crouch beside an unconscious Hood. He jolted forward a step, his arm out, to... shove Malcolm away, shield Oliver, he didn't even know. But it was too late as Malcolm pushed Oliver's Hood away and he felt bile in his throat.

"Oh, no." Malcolm whispered in dread as he saw his son's best-friend.

"Oliver!" Tommy couldn't stop the cry and Malcolm looked over to him, rising. "Dad- What-? What the hell?!" he managed, using the natural panic, fear, and helplessness to fool his father. "What the hell is going on? Oliver-?"

"Did you know about this?" Malcolm questioned, gesturing at Oliver at his feet.

"What?" Tommy asked in shock. "How could I-"

"He's your best-friend, Thomas. You two are as close as brothers." He replied in a hard tone. "How could you have not known?"

"The same way I didn't know about you!" Tommy shouted back. "He was stuck on a deserted island for five-years, he never wanted to talk about it. Just like you left for two-years and never talked about it until now. How could I have known that about him after not knowing him for five-years, when I never even suspected about me own father!?" his chest heaved and unshed tears sprung unbidden to his eyes.

"Alright." Malcolm said. "I had to ask, Tommy."

"What are you going to do with him?" he asked in a small voice.

"I can't just let him go," he murmured. "You know that."

"Don't hurt him." Tommy pleaded. It felt like his heart was tearing; he wanted to leap across, get his father away from Oliver when he was so vulnerable and helpless, end this here, tonight. But he couldn't, he wasn't strong enough. If Oliver couldn't defeat him, then how was he supposed to?

"I won't." Malcolm put his phone to his ear. "I'm just going to remove him temporarily from the board until The Undertaking is finished, and then he can't do any more damage."

 _f_

* * *

 **aRROW**

 _Somehow I finished this in one night, when I've been pretty much freaking out about what the heck I was going to do with it since chapter one. Now I'm just freaking out about the next episode! The finale..._

 _I mean, it can't end the same, right? Tommy can't still die, can he? Hm..._


	23. Chapter 23: Sacrifice

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, its episodes or its characters.**

 **Tag: Season 1, Episode 23 - "Sacrifice"**

 _ **"Eloquence of a Secret"**_ **Series Summary: Tommy finds out the truth about the Hood from the beginning.**

 **Chapter Summary:** _It's the stroke before midnight and The Undertaking is going forward, but with things going awry for Team Hood, it's a mad scramble to stop The Dark Archer and save the Glades. Will they be able to handle the aftermath?_

 **aRRoW**

* * *

 **Tommy Knows: "Sacrifice"**

Tommy was helpless to do anything to stop the men who carried Oliver away, frozen to the spot in the middle of his father's office. His mind spinning in circles; lead weight building in the pit of his stomach.

Malcolm paused in the doorway, turning aside toward him. "Go home, Tommy. Sleep. Tomorrow it will be a new dawn and the world will be changed for the better. Everyone will be in their proper place."

Tommy allowed himself the precious minute it took for Malcolm and his men to disappear down the hall with Oliver to whatever secret route they decided to take; to have a complete mental breakdown. Then he gave himself a huge kick in the ass because he didn't have the luxury for longer than that, not with Oliver's life and thousands of others in the balance.

Tommy played the messages left on his phone, catching up as he went to his dad's desk, lifted the dish, and stole the cell phone that held his mother's dying words. As soon as he heard the message the first time, he should have made the connection, but hearing his mother die, no matter what age, was a shock to the system. But it had also put him back in mind of the Glades underground subway map in the notebook cover.

Now was not the time for panic and indecision. It was time for action, they had no other choice but to act. After he finished the messages, he speed-dialled Felicity, heading out his father's office.

" _Tommy, thank god_!" Felicity cried in relief. " _I've been trying to reach you since last night! Oliver-"_

"My dad has Oliver." He took the stairs, already thinking of his exit-strategy and the best way not to be seen by any of his father's men.

" _What_?"

"Dad knows Oliver is The Hood, Felicity."

" _Oh, my god_!"

"I need you to trace the tracker in his boot right now and drag Diggle's ass over to wherever it is. I don't care if he says he's finished, his vacation's over. Oliver needs him right now, no screwing around. Ok?"

" _What are you going to do_?" she asked anxiously.

"I have an idea of where my father might have placed the device."

" _It wasn't at the warehouse_ -"

"That's because my dad already placed the device. Have you figured out how to deactivate the earthquake generator?"

" _I'm still working on it. There's a hand-held trigger which we need to get our hand on_."

"Dad'll have that close to him." Tommy uttered. "I'm gonna be in the tunnels, near Pap Street where my mother was killed. That's what was bothering me about the map in the notebook. Knowing my father, the reason he's doing this whole thing... I'm sure it's just the place he put it." He paused on the ground floor, but instead of taking the door to the lobby, he took the exit that lead to the garage.

" _Tommy, you should wait for_ -" Felicity started.

"Dad's distracted, now that Oliver is 'out of the picture' he'll think he has no enemies left. This is the perfect time to do this. He's not just going to wait. This thing is happening in the next 24 hours. We don't have time to waste. Get Diggle, bring Oliver back. I'll call you when I find it." On the street, he managed to hail a cab rather quickly. He called the address for his mother's clinic through the plastic partition.

" _Alright. Just be careful_."

"I will." He hung up and waited anxiously for almost ten minutes before the cab dropped him on the street. He found the boarded up tunnel entrance and kicked through the old boards. In the tunnel, he used his cell as a flashlight, but didn't immediately move.

As he paused to gather his bearings and decide which direction to go; the distorted echo of their voices came down the tunnel. Malcolm must have put men down in the tunnels to guard the device until it was kick-off time, just in case someone like him came around. He waited for them to speak again before he started in their direction via the side of the tunnel where the dimness was darkest.

He saw the seismic device first; it stood taller than him and cast a faint electric blue glow. Tommy pulled out two of his knives as he paused, locating the two men.

"Got a light, man?" one asked, starting across the tunnel.

"Yeah." The second man stepped from the shadows and met in the middle, just setting themselves up for Tommy. He pulled out a lighter and held it out for the man.

Tommy exhaled shallowly, and threw as the first man straightened. His first knife hit its mark, Cigarette Man chocked and stumbled as it buried in his neck, and he crumpled to his knees and the ground, dead. Lighter Man was luckier, turning away just at the right moment to cough into his elbow.

He cried out as the knife grazed his upper arm instead. "Hell! Hank!" he saw his downed mate and reached for his gun. Tommy was already on the move, rushing him. "Shit!" the man shouted as Tommy drop kicked him. The man tumbled into the gravel, the gunshot sounding like a grenade in the tunnel as it went off before he lost his grip in the landing.

Tommy quickly grabbed the dead man's weapon, as Lighter Man scrambled for his lost gun. He pointed and fired. The sound sent his ears ringing, but the man didn't get up again. Panting, Tommy quickly checked to make sure that the man was dead before he pulled out his cell phone and dialled Felicity.

" _Did you find it?"_ she asked.

"Yeah." He approached the device. "What about Oliver?"

" _His boot finally stopped moving. It's in the warehouse district in the Glades. Diggle's on his way right now."_

"Good." He sighed in relief. "Now tell me you know how to deactivate this thing."

...

"Thank god, you're back!" Felicity gasped from her hub as she saw him.

Tommy ran his fingers through his dark hair, shaking loose the remaining tunnel dust. "And no worse for wear."

"Why would-" Felicity started in worry.

"Oliver and Diggle back yet?" he asked, grabbing a bottle of water.

"Yes." Oliver growled behind him. "The real question is, why weren't you?"

Tommy chocked on his water, coughing. He turned to Oliver, his eyes watering. "I had to work fast. Ahem. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He said curtly.

"Thanks for getting him, Diggle." Tommy addressed the former bodyguard and member of Team Hood.

Diggle nodded. "It was needed."

"Felicity said you disarmed the device." Oliver said.

Tommy nodded. "It was right where I thought it would be, right near where my mother was killed. He had guys on it, but I took them by surprise so they didn't pose much of a problem."

"Are you okay?" Felicity asked.

Tommy just nodded. "I hate to say this... but this has all felt a little too easy."

"What exactly has been easy about any of this, Merlyn?" Diggle questioned in exasperation.

"I don't know." Tommy gave a helpless shrug. "I just think that this isn't it. Something as important as this Undertaking to my dad, I don't think he would put all his eggs in the one basket."

"You're saying... you think there might be another device?" Felicity asked.

"All I know is, we have six hours to figure it out, because if there is another device, that was the amount on the timer of the one we managed to disarm." He explained, sitting beside Felicity.

"Then we need to get our hands on that transmitter before the clock runs out," Oliver said. "We need to stop Malcolm."

"If there is a second device and we don't find it in time," Felicity spoke up, "I think we need to warn people, get them out of the Glades."

"That would tip The Dark Archer off," Diggle pointed out. "Our advantage would be gone."

"We don't have a choice." Oliver said. "If we don't warn people, give them a chance to evacuate—and we fail because we didn't want to tip Malcolm?" He shook his head. "No. Felicity's right. We need to warn people."

"The Hood gonna break into a news station tonight?" Diggle said sarcastically.

"The Hood will call Lance." He corrected.

"You really think the detective will believe you?" Diggle asked.

"If he doesn't," Tommy supplied, "Just send him to the subway tunnel under Pap St. near the clinic."

"And Felicity," Oliver looked to the other blond.

"Yes?"

"I need you to call Walter."

"Walter?" her brows furrowed in confusion, and the others looked at the archer the same.

Oliver nodded. "We need to convince my mother to stop hiding in the shadows. She involved in this. She knows what's about to happen."

"Are you sure, Oliver?" Tommy asked.

"She can't hide anymore," Oliver said firmly. "She needs to take responsibly for her part."

"Okay. Wow. Alright." Felicity nodded, picking up her cell from the desk.

...

"Tommy, are you ready for this?" Oliver approached him at the far table where he was busily sharpening his knives.

"What are you talking about?" he briefly glance up at his best-friend, before returning to his knives.

"Look, you've done your part; Diggle and I can finish this."

"Now I know you're screwing with me, Oliver." He put the knife down. "Sit this one out? Are you kidding me?"

"This is your father we're talking about."

"That man is a monster, not my father." Tommy growled.

"That man is your father that just happens to be a monster." Oliver corrected softly.

"Oliver, I need to do this." Tommy insisted. "He is my father and that's exactly why I need to do it. We have to stop him no matter the cost. The Undertaking cannot happen. I don't care what happens to me, Oliver." He picked the knife up again. "But Thea..." he trailed off, digging the point of his knife into the tabletop.

"Thea?" he repeated in confusion at the sudden mention of his sister. " What are you talking about? What about Thea?"

"I didn't want to do this now. I wanted to tell the both of you... I didn't know how the tell you both... or if I should." He shook his head. "No, no. It's better this way." He pulled the now dulled point from the table and resumed sharpening it.

"Tommy, you are actually scaring me right now. What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Oliver. He screwed you over again, your family just keeps on paying for his mistakes."

"Tommy," Oliver grasped his shoulder. "What did Malcolm do?" he growled.

"Ollie, this is one secret of my father's that I need to keep. I'm not going to let him hurt any more of the Queen family."

"You can't just bring Thea up and not explain." Oliver said irately. "Tommy-"

Tommy stood. "We have a dragon to slay." He started to place his knives on his person, some strategically, the others within easy and fast access. "You called Lance, it's in his and S.C.P.D.'s hands now. And Walter is trying to convince Moira to come forward before it's too late. Now—it's our turn."

 **A**

"Dad." Tommy verbalized as he stepped into his father's office at MG, turning into the room.

Malcolm was dressed in his Dark Archer outfit, back to his son as he faced one of the several display cases in the office. For the life of him, Tommy couldn't remember what it held; just that it was dangerous.

"I've been waiting for this moment..." Malcolm said. "The one where you betrayed your mother."

"You're the one who betrayed her." Tommy replied softly. "Using her name as an excuse to commit murder." His hand was tucked behind his jacket at the small of his back, grasping the gun grip.

"And you're here to stop me." He supplied, unworried. "I suppose _The_ _Hood_ is lurking around somewhere, waiting to make his move."

" _Keep him talking,_ " Oliver said through the comm. right on cue of exactly his father's supposition. " _I've just made it to the roof; I have to set the line._ "

"Don't worry about Oliver," Tommy said. "You're talking to me. I'm not going to let you do this." His heart raced and he swallowed, his hand tightening on the grip.

"I know you, son. You're not a killer."

"You know nothing about me." He started to pull the gun from his waistband. "When was the last time you ever took a true parental interest in my life, and not this bullshit about killing people for me?"

"You're too soft to do what needs to be done!" and he spun without warning, the metal of the scimitar from the display flashing before Tommy's eyes as it came towards him, helpless to stop its decent. The gun fired, bullet striking the pillar behind. Oliver crashed through the balcony window, glass shattering everywhere as Tommy hit the floor, senseless. The Green Archer let the momentum of the zip line carry him through the roll, and power the barrel into The Dark Archer, knocking Malcolm through the open door to his secret cache, following through with him. Diggle rushed into the room after them, gun drawn.

Tommy could hear them against the buzz in his head, an odd back and fourth between the earwig and them just in the other room.

"Come here to watch your city die?" Malcolm mocked.

"Where is the transmitter?" Oliver demanded.

Tommy scrambled to his feet, the side of his face burning, squinching his right eye instinctively at the blood.

"She is the queen of this war," Malcolm said. "You'll never get your hands on it."

"And neither will you!" Diggle fired multiple rounds.

Tommy made it to the doorway, automatically placing all the players as Malcolm dodged Diggle's bullets. Oliver tried to manoeuvre the table to get line of sight, he loosed an arrow, but the wood rack at the end of the table blocked the connection.

Malcolm made a mirage of a familiar move Tommy seen on himself. Tommy didn't think, just reacted, his blade loose an instant later. His knife flying at what seemed a more sedate pass to his father's. The blades' barely made a spark as their blades grazed, Tommy's touching his just enough to divert its path from what would have been a mortal wound, to one that was just a 'flesh-wound' in comparison. Diggle let out a cry of pain as he fell against the wall and to the floor.

"Diggle!" Oliver exclaimed, automatically swivelling on his heel to change direction from the escaping archer to his injured partner.

"Oliver, go!" Tommy shouted, already kneeling at Diggle's side. "I got him!" he quickly shrugged out of his jacket, crumpled it and pressed it against the bleeding wound in Diggle's side.

"Ah!" Diggle grunted in pain, his hand automatically going over the pressed material.

"You're going to fine." Tommy promised. "Felicity?" he called into comms.

" _I'm here_ ," she said and continued quickly, " _Mrs. Queen just popped onto all the news networks with a breaking press conference; I think Walter finally convinced her to come forward about The Undertaking. And S.C.P.D. still hasn't found the second device. What's happening over there_?"

"Diggle's been hit."

" _What_?" she exclaimed.

"I'm okay, Felicity." Diggle promised, sending a glare to the other man.

"Think you can send an ambulance our way?" Tommy said. "The wound is fine for now, I've got pressure on it, but he needs treatment."

" _I've already put in the call_." Felicity assured.

"I'll be fine, Tommy." Diggle told him, pushing himself up against the wall with a gritted jaw. "Go help Oliver, he can't do this alone."

Tommy nodded, grabbing his knife from the floor as he jumped to his feet and ran up the stairs through another secret passage that was in the already secret cache. "The ambulance, Diggle."

He stopped in the open doorway; it had only been a few minutes, but already both archers were disarmed from the close-combat fight. Malcolm had the upper hand, Oliver was slowly having the life chocked out of him right before Tommy's eyes. Tommy knew he wouldn't be able to defeat his father with his throwing knives; looked like he was going to have to improvise.

Tommy spotted Oliver's bow by his feet; he quickly picked it up. He pulled one of his dad's arrows sticking out from the doorframe. He had his props; now to the bluff—let's see if his bragging held true. He set up the arrow, the string rested against the end, but he didn't draw back.

"Don't worry." Malcolm told Oliver as the blond struggled in his chokehold. "Your mother and sister will be joining you in death. And I can train my son under proper influence."

"Let him go!" Tommy bellowed, bringing the bow up and drawing the string back.

Malcolm looked over. "You've been teaching him to use a bow?" he asked Oliver with interest.

There was no way that he was going to admit that Oliver hadn't even let him touch a bow yet, he was still playing Patty Cake with the bowl of water.

"Do it, Tommy!" Oliver shouted in a strained breath.

Malcolm chuckled. "You believe in his skill that much? Well go ahead, son." He egged Tommy condescendingly. "The only hope you have of hitting me is if you shoot through your best-friend here," he squeezed, "But if you can't even shoot someone you hate, how can you hurt someone you love?"

Tommy could already feel the strain of the two-hundred pound draw, he could feel the twinge between his shoulder blades. Clearly, bluffing was not an option. Malcolm would never be feared into submission by him because he was right—Tommy could never hurt Oliver like that.

"I won't let you hurt them anymore. You've done too much to them already." He locked eyes with Oliver, silently communing with his best-friend. "I'll never let you get your blood-soaked hands on her..." Oliver dropped his weight—virtually hanging himself—and Tommy released in the same instant.

The arrow loosed as he exhaled, and Malcolm grunted in pain and stumbled back a step by the time he inhaled again. His own arrow managing to miss Oliver, and tear through Malcolm's collarbone. Oliver took advantage of the loosened hold, rearing his head back and up, catching Malcolm under the chin, making him bite his tongue.

Oliver managed to twist out of the hold executing a roundhouse kick, forcing Malcolm to dodge and create distance between them. It a synchronized move, Tommy tossed the bow to the archer, and he instantly fired arrow after arrow of what remained in his quiver after the struggle.

Malcolm was doing an admiral job of fending off the flying projectiles with nothing but knives, having lost his own bow, and absent sword. But having twenty-years of training on Oliver didn't make him invincible.

Tommy scrambled around, grabbing scattered arrows, whether they were green or black, stuffing them into The Hood's quiver. He joined the fray with his knives, bracketing Malcolm against the wall that rose accordingly to the helipad of Merlyn Global Group.

In a last ditch effort, Malcolm threw his knives at either man able to not transmit the move in a show of muscle movement. Like in the cache room, Tommy managed to intercept his own with a throwing knife, diverting it entirely; and Oliver shot his own out of the air with an arrow. Malcolm had taken an arrow to the thigh, shoulder, and side before he finally collapsed back against the wall and slumped to the gravel rooftop of his own building.

"It's over." Oliver told him.

"twenty-three minutes and counting." Malcolm countered through the pain. "The world will not be the same, The Hood will have failed this city."

" _You_ have failed this city!" Tommy screamed at him in frustration. " _You_ have failed your family! _You_ have failed my mother!"

"Hey, hey." Oliver murmured, putting a hand on Tommy's chest. "He can't hurt anyone now. He's going away-"

"He's trained in something called The League of Assassins, Oliver! Do you think a normal prison will be able to hold him?"

"What if I had a prison that wasn't normal?" Oliver said.

"What are you talking about?"

Oliver shortened the distance between them and said quietly so only he would hear, "Lian Yu; it means Purgatory. It's the supermax of prisons; A.R.G.U.S. controls it now. He'd never escape, he'd rot there for the rest of his natural life."

Tommy was conflicted. Of course he didn't want to kill his father, but wouldn't it be safer-

Malcolm's laughed turned into a wet cough. "Imprison me; hide beneath that false sense of security. And one day, when you stop waking in a cold sweat, when you stop looking over your shoulder... I'm going to come and I'm going to raze the happy-endings you've built for yourselves. And I'm going to start with your sister," he looked at Oliver. "And the blond one." He told Tommy.

Tommy lunged forward without thought, just anger and fear, before even Oliver could react, one of his few remaining knives pressed to his father's jugular. "Then I will kill you so that won't ever happen."

Malcolm gave him a shark-grin filled with bloodied teeth. "Then I will be proud to call you my son."

"I don't want _you_ to call me son! I want my old dad back; the one that used to do magic tricks for me, who tucked me in at night and read me stories-"

"He was weak!" Malcolm shouted, grunting as he pressed forward against the bite of the blade. "He couldn't protect his wife, his family. But I can!"

"Where is the second device!" Tommy demanded. "I've already disarmed the one by the clinic, just give me the second one. It doesn't have to end like this!"

"It was always supposed to end like this, son." Malcolm slumped back, short of breath. His eyes flickered passed Oliver, "I knew one day it would come to this!"

"Tommy!" Oliver grabbed Tommy, yanking the man towards himself. They fell back onto each other, in a heap on the gravel as three arrows cut through the air in front of them in tight synchronized grouping.

"DAD!" Tommy screamed in shock.

Oliver was already knocking an arrow from his reclined position, aiming it towards the figure that stood eclipsed on the edge of the building, the bulge of a quiver behind their shoulder obvious and the curve of their bow. But before Oliver could fire, that dark hooded form disappeared over the edge. He jumped to his feet and rushed to the edge, but there was nothing; not even a zip line. It was like a phantom.

"They're gone," Oliver turned to Tommy.

"Who?" Tommy whispered as he stared at his father, dead, three black-fletching arrows sticking from his chest.

"They carried a bow and arrows, wore a dark hood like Malcolm... I think they were from The League."

"What?"

"Tommy." Oliver whispered. "Felicity," he said into comms. "Malcolm's down for the count."

" _Are you both alright?_ " she whispered.

"Physically." He said shortly.

" _Diggle's on his way to the hospital_ ," Felicity reported. " _He should be arriving momentarily. Tommy?"_

"I'm here," his voice croaked. He cleared his throat. "I'm okay."

 _"Are you sure? What happened?"_

 _"_ Oliver said it was someone from The League of Assassins."

 _"What? Didn't he train with them? Why would they-?"_

"I don't know." He was just as discombobulated. "Maybe someone hired them to kill him."

" _I'm glad you didn't have to do it, Tommy."_

"Yeah," Tommy whispered. "Me, too."

While Felicity distracted Tommy, Oliver crouched beside Malcolm and patted the dead man down. He stood up empty-handed. "The transmitter's not here," he told Felicity. He grasped Tommy's elbow.

"What are we going to do?" Tommy felt vibration in his pant pocket as Oliver pulled him to his feet.

" _We just have to hope S.C.P.D. finds the device in the next six minutes_ ," Felicity said in dejection. _"There's mass panic and riots in the Glades as the force is trying to evacuate before the timer runs out. It's not going well."_

Almost dazed, Tommy pulled his cell from his pocket as it continued to buzz; someone really wanted to get a hold of him. He stared in confusion at the timer on the screen of the flip phone; this wasn't his. It was his mother's; he remembered grabbing it from Malcolm's desk after his father's men took Oliver away. But why would-? And then he remembered Malcolm's words: _She is the queen of this war._

"Holy shit!" Tommy exclaimed. "Is this the transmitter?" he showed Oliver the cell.

"Destroy it!" Oliver told him instantly.

" _ **NO**_ _!_ " Felicity screamed in their ears. " _Sorry. But don't destroy it_!"

"What am I supposed to do with it then?" Tommy asked anxiously. "It's counting down with four minutes left!"

" _You have to stop the trigger."_

"By destroying it." Oliver confirmed.

" _No_." She said firmly. " _That could short the signal and cause the trigger of another safe guard and cause it to go off anyway._ "

Tommy flipped the phone open.

"How exactly are we supposed to do that then, Felicity?" Oliver growled in frustration.

" _Malcolm..."_

"What was that?" Oliver demanded, looking at Tommy.

"My mother." Tommy whispered, staring down at the phone as it played his mother's dying words.

 _"I'm in trouble..."_

 _"What's happening?"_ Felicity asked.

"The night my mother was killed, she called my dad, but he didn't pick up." Tommy explained. "These are her dying words."

" _I told- I told him to take everything."_

 _"Did you select the audio file?"_ Felicity asked.

"No," he said with tears in his eyes as he listened to his mother dying again. "It's just started playing when I opened the phone."

Felicity started to mumble under her breath.

 _"My money, my rings."_

"Felicity?" Oliver questioned urgently, "At least tell me S.C.P.D. has found the second device." But she didn't answer.

"It was the whole reason he started this horrible thing," Tommy inhaled shakily. "Nobody stopped to help her. She bled out in an alley of the city she wanted to save, but the people in the Glades don't want to be saved so they don't deserve to be saved."

 _"He shot me."_

 _"Delete it!"_ Felicity blurted.

"What?" his grip tightened in the phone.

" _The file is the trigger,"_ she said urgently. " _If you delete it, it will delete the time trigger. It should disable the transmitter, deactivate the device. Then when S.C.P.D. find the seismic device we can disarm it manually just to be sure it can't be triggered again."_

 _"I screamed for help, but..."_

"You don't know if that will work." Tommy said quietly, even as his thumb moved over the keypad.

"It's our only option," Oliver whispered. "We have to try it."

 _"No one would come."_

"I know," Tommy whispered. "I love you, mom."

 _"Mal, I don't-"_

Tommy pressed delete. There was silence. The phone screen flickered, then went black.

"It went dead, Felicity." Oliver reported as he gripped his best-friend's shoulder in connection.

" _We'll know if it worked in ten seconds,"_ she whispered.

"We never got to have that dinner," Tommy told her. "I was really looking forward to it.

" _We will,"_ Felicity promised. And counted down, _"Three... Two... One."_

They all held their breaths and waited for a district to come crumbling to the ground—but there was only stillness.

"Felicity?" Oliver questioned.

" _It worked."_ Felicity gasped in disbelief, _"I think it worked! I mean, I'm pretty sure. We're all alive. I don't feel an earthquake. I'm going to tell Det. Lance that we destroyed the transmitter and the second device should be deactivated, but that we should still dismantle it as a precaution."_

"Okay, we're heading back to the lair."

"No," Tommy said.

Oliver looked at him. "What do you mean, no?"

"You need go home, be with Thea. Find out what's happening with your mother."

" _She was taken into police custody after her press conference,"_ Felicity supplied. " _That's all I know."_

"And when the S.C.P.D. finally find the second device and you talk them through the disconnect, Felicity, you should go to the hospital and check on Diggle." Tommy told her. "And I..." he looked over at his father, "I need to stay here."

" _Tommy, you can't!"_ she protested. " _SWAT is on their way to Merlyn Global right now, they'll arrest you and try and charge you with God knows what_."

"You don't think they won't just hunt me down and arrest me elsewhere?" Tommy countered, looking at Oliver who had been thus silent. "Might as well get it over with; I'll just give them an abridged version of events: I was here with my dad when Moira's press conference came on the news, I confronted him, tried to stop him. He knocked me out," he pointed at his injured lower eye socket, "When I came-to I found my dad dressed as The Dark Archer and The Hood fighting on the roof, before a third archer dressed in black showed up and killed my father before disappearing. The Hood destroyed the transmitter and then vanished, all without revealing his identity. Simple." He gave a shrug. "There is no evidence to the contrary, no other witness to the showdown."

" _Argh!"_ Felicity growled in frustration. " _The cops finally found the second device in the West end, I have to talk them through the dismantle. Oliver..."_ she stressed.

"Yeah." Oliver replied. He regarded his friend. "You feel guilty."

"Of course I'm guilty!" Tommy said. "I colluded with him, didn't I?"

"You didn't collude, Tommy." Oliver shook his head. "You infiltrated your father's organisation, gathered Intel., and then responded when the situation went critical and became dangerous. If you were a police officer, it would be called undercover; you were just doing your job."

"I knew my dad was going to kill those scientists at Unidac Ind. but I didn't even try to stop him, I took advantage of the situation for our own gain." Tommy hung his head. "I need to face up to that, Oliver." He went over to the ledge and sat on the edge. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do. You need to go home." But Oliver shook his head, pulling at the collar of his Hood as he went and sat beside his best-friend. "What are you doing?"

"Then there's a lot of things that I need to face up to as well," Oliver said. "The people I've killed, the people that I couldn't save."

"Oliver, you didn't have a choice." Tommy protested. "You haven't killed anyone that didn't have it coming, and was in defence of yourself and others. And you've saved so many people as The Hood, that would be dead otherwise if you weren't here. And the people who didn't make it... you gave them justice. You have nothing to be guilty for, Ollie."

"And I could say the same to you, Tommy." Oliver squeezed his shoulder. Tommy shook his head in denial as he continued, "There are things that I have done, that make me sick to my stomach, that keep me up at night. Things that paint me the monster. I have been cruel and blood thirsty. Some things were survival, some were revenge, some were by the orders of others... but they were all done by my hand. None of the things you have done were for cruelty's sake or bloodlust, Tommy. Revenge or power like Malcolm. All you've done was to protect me, Felicity, Diggle, Thea... all of those people in the Glades. That never would have happened without you."

"I could have stopped him, so many times." Tommy uttered voicelessly, burying his face in his hands.

"You couldn't have killed your father, Tommy." Oliver hushed. "I'm just sorry you had to watch him die. It's never an easy thing, no matter if he was a good or a bad man."

"He would have killed us, come after everyone we love." Tommy rose his head and looked at his best-friend. "I'm just glad that you didn't have to kill him either. How do you deal with it?" he asked the heavy question.

"It's a process. I'm not sure there will be a day where I don't feel the guilt or shame."

"You're a good man, Oliver. The people who love you know it, and one day we'll get you to believe it yourself."

"Let's go home, Tommy." Oliver whispered. "It's over. The Undertaking, The Hood's crusade. The list is burned, we're finished. We can move forward now, out from the burdens our father's have laid us with."

"Felicity," Tommy murmured into comms. knowing she was listening even if she couldn't respond. "We're heading back to the lair."

 **RR**

"Are you both okay?" Felicity jumped to here feet as soon as she heard them come through the alley entrance. "What took you so long, I was worried."

"It's crazy out there," Tommy said as Oliver went and stripped from his Hood. "You'd think after hearing someone wanted to level the Glades, people would get their shit together and get out, not riot and loot." He turned to her.

"Oh, my God! Your face, Tommy!" Felicity exclaimed. "I thought you said you were okay?" she pushed him onto a stool and he went willingly enough.

"It's just a scratch, I can't even feel it anymore."

"That's not something to be reassured about," Fingers on his chin, she turned his head, and gently palpitated around the wound; Tommy winced. "I thought you said you can't even feel it anymore?" she challenged sternly. "It's still bleeding, when did you get this?"

"When you poke it like that…" he said petulantly.

"Oliver." She growled, holding his face.

"Malcolm." Oliver called back, "At the beginning."

"Tommy," she whispered, tears clouded her eyes, "He could have cut your head off."

"Hey," he hushed, petting her pony. "I'm right here." He palmed the nape of her neck and brought their foreheads together. "Ten fingers, ten toes."

She gave a watery chuckle. "That's not funny."

"But you laughed anyway,"

"That's what you do when you like somebody," she reasoned, "Laugh at all their stupid jokes."

"And this is my move when I like someone," he murmured, and kissed her.

She started, but a second later she was sighing against his mouth. Her eyes closed as she looped her arms around his neck, pushing the teardrops passed her lashes and down her cheeks. She gave a squeak at the pressure at the small of her back, putting her in his lap. He chuckled in his chest and sucked on her bottom lip before they finally parted.

"I think I like your move a lot better," her cheeks were flushed. "A little more blood and tears than I usually prefer, though," she giggled, palming her wet cheeks.

"I'll do even better next time," he promised, and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "No blood and no tears."

"Ahem." Oliver pointedly cleared his throat as he set the first aid kit on the table at Tommy's back; dressed in a tee and jeans.

Felicity popped off Tommy's lap like a jackrabbit. She cleared her throat in embarrassment, quickly smoothing out her clothes and adjusting her glasses. "Sorry, that was probably a bit unprofessional and inappropriate given current events," she babbled, "And this is like my unpaid, volunteer, extracurricular activity-"

"Is this your way of saying you want to get paid, Felicity?" Oliver interrupted, taking out a needle and numbing Tommy cheek.

"What?" she sputtered to a stop. "Of course not! That's not why I started to do this in the first place—If I wanted money I would have written you a letter."

Tommy snickered as he grabbed her hand, Oliver laying a towel around his neck. "You're such a Girl Scout."

"Me?" she replied haughtily. Tommy's face scrunched as Oliver flushed the wound; he couldn't feel the pain, but he could feel the pressure.

"This wound looks pretty deep, Tommy." Oliver noted, examining it. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the E.R. and have a plastic surgeon do it? My stitches are good, but not that good."

"Just another scar left by my father," he whispered and Felicity squeezed his hand. "The only difference this time is that it's visible. I trust you not to poke my eye out, buddy."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Oliver said drily as he threaded the needle. He glanced at Felicity, "Everything go as planned with the second device?"

Felicity nodded. "There was no trouble with the deactivation; they're disassembling both devices right now. And the officers should have arrived at MG by now."

Tommy kept still as Oliver started to stitch. "What about Diggle?" his words came muddled through still lips.

"I'll call right now." She said, releasing Tommy's hand and grabbing her cell phone. She speed dialled and put it on speaker for the guys. She tapped her foot as she waited for the man to pick up.

The line connected. " _Felicity?"_

"Thank God," she breathed. "I thought I was going to have to tell the nurse at reception that I was your fiancé or something."

" _Take it everyone came out of it alive?"_ He said wryly. " _The emergency room isn't filled with earthquake casualties."_

"We're here, John." Oliver said, concentrating on his task. "How're you doing?"

" _Just a surface wound, no internal damage."_ Diggle reported. " _They want to keep me until morning. What happened?"_

Oliver's movements paused briefly before he continued. "Malcolm's dead."

There was silence on the other end.

"Cat got your tongue, Diggle?" Tommy finally spoke, careful not to move. "Don't worry, neither of us killed him."

" _What do you mean?"_

"It was The League of Assassins." Oliver answered. "It's something to worry about later, or not at all." He said before Diggle could ask questions.

"I didn't expect to hear that from you," Felicity said.

Oliver snipped the last thread. "We can talk about it later." He swabbed the line of four sutures and applied a bandage. "Finished. I think we all just need a moment to breathe and heal." He packed up the kit. "That means take care of yourself, Dig." Oliver said.

" _Yeah. You, too, man_."

The line disconnected, and Felicity put her cell down on the table. And ringing filled the lair. "That's yours," she told Oliver, grabbing his cell. "Thea's been calling ever since your mom's press conference. I would have answered, but I wasn't sure what to tell her; it's not like I could have told her, her big brother was wearing a green hood at the moment, can I please take a message?" she handed him the cell.

"Thea-" he answered. "Hey, hey. Easy, breathe. | We saw the news. Sorry I haven't been able to get home. | It's crazy in the Glades right now. We were on our way- | Diggle has a night in the hospital, and Tommy- | He's okay, Speedy. I promise. It's just some stitches. | We're coming home right now. |I don't know what's happening anymore than you do. | Right now." He promised. "I love you, too. Bye," he hung up and put the cell in his pocket. He looked at Tommy, "Looks like we're going home—right now. Felicity..." he glanced at the other blond.

"Shouldn't be going home alone right now," Tommy stood. "It's not safe, at least not tonight."

"You want me to go home with you already?" she joked. "We've only kissed once."

"I'm not going to bite," he teased. "The Queen's have a whole array of empty guest rooms. Oliver?"

Oliver nodded. "He's right, Felicity."

"I guess I'm out-voted," she mumbled as Tommy took her hand.

...

"Ollie!" Thea threw herself into her big brother's arms in the foyer of the mansion where she had been pacing anxiously waiting for him to come home; Walter with a still, calm, British exterior her company. "Where-?" she started, trying to fight the sob.

"Shhh," He rubbed her back. "I'm here now. Walter," he looked over her head at the older man.

"Oliver," Walter said.

"What's been going on?" his hand stopped and he simply held his sister.

"The police have arrested your mother after her press conference," he said. "I tried to go to the station with her, but the police wouldn't let us leave."

"Hey, Speedy." Tommy murmured, putting a hand on Thea's back. She rose her head from her brother's chest. "Hey," She instantly turned into him and clung. He held her tightly in turn, resting his cheek against her wavy hair; his father would never get his hands on her now.

Oliver quickly closed the distance between Walter and himself, sensing that their time was short, with Felicity at his side.

"There are officers going through the house right now," Walter said.

"We saw squad cars at the gate," Felicity said.

"I will follow your lead on this, Oliver."

Oliver nodded. "We managed to stop the devices from activating," he said quietly, "That should help mother's case in the long run; she won't be a part of a mass murder."

"Oliver said..." Thea rose her head. "Your eye." Her grey-brown eyes shone with worry and unshed tears. Tommy let her gently touch his cheek with cool fingertips. "What happened?"

"That is an interesting question with an answer that I'm sure will be just as." Lance appeared with a few other uniformed officers with him. "Mr Queen, Mr Merlyn," he addressed the men as the group turned to him, "We've been looking for you."

"You must not have been looking very hard." Tommy remarked sarcastically. "I know my father was a cold man, but to nuke an entire neighbourhood?" he shook his head. "That sounds insane."

"Well, we'll never know his side of the story," Lance said, observing the dark-haired man intently, "We sent a SWAT Team to your family's company, Merlyn Global Group, tonight after Moira Queen's public confession, we found him on the roof—his body stuck like a pin cushion full of black and green arrows."

Thea gasped, and clutched his arm tightly. Felicity squeezed his other hand. Of course Tommy already knew his father was dead, he was there. But felt like he'd just been gut-punched anyway.

"Tommy," Oliver squeezed his shoulder from behind. He glared at Lance, "There wasn't a better way that you could have broken the news?" he growled.

Lance had broken the news in a brash manner to get a genuine reaction from the orphan, and by God, he got one. Tommy guessed he hadn't really let himself proper time to process it, and to be told by someone outside of Team Hood, it seemed to give it that kick of reality.

"So you knew nothing of your father's plans to level the Glades and everyone in it tonight?" Lance ignored Oliver and continued for the jugular.

"What?" Tommy shook his head and tried to focus. "What the hell? Do you think if I knew I wouldn't try and stop him?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out,"

"You've just told me that my father was killed tonight—that my father is dead. Now you're accusing my of being in on his plan to bomb the Glades?"

"Not bombs," Lance corrected. "A seismic device,"

"I don't even know what that is!" Tommy shouted.

Lance didn't flinch in the face of his anger.

"Is this treatment truly necessary, detective?" Walter questioned firmly.

"Very," he said. "And who are you?" Lance looked Felicity up and down. "I didn't catch your name the last time."

"Um, Felicity Smoak." She said a little nervously.

"And your relationship in regards to, uh..." he waved his pen at everyone else.

Tommy narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Lance glared right back. "For the record."

"Tommy," Felicity uttered, a hand on his arm. She turned to the detective, squared, "Tommy and I are boyfriend and girlfriend, detective... for the record."

"Perhaps we can get back on track with the questioning, detective?" Walter stepped forward. "It's been a long night-"

"And it's going to be even longer," Lance interrupted, "Until I'm satisfied that no one else here was involved in your mother's," he looked at Oliver, "And your father's," his glance went to Tommy, "Insane plan to level the Glades! Now, we can do this down at the station in my comfort where at least 50% of you already belong, or in your castle... which will it be, gentlemen?"

"You can accuse us all you want, detective," Oliver said as Walter led the way to the tea room, "We have done nothing wrong."

"Your mother claims to have been involved in something very wrong, Mr. Queen," Lance stayed standing as the kids fitted the couch and Walter sat the chair. "Now, as of this moment Det. Hilton is in interrogation with her and her lawyer, we have people going through the house and Merlyn Global, where I must say: very interesting reports are coming in." He regarded the group, "Care to elaborate?"

"What are you talking about?" Tommy said.

"Alright, how about something a little more simple... where were the two of you tonight while all this was happening?"

"Verdant," Oliver said. "The three of us," he gestured at Tommy and Felicity sitting on Thea's other side respectively, "And my bodyguard Mr Diggle. We were there when the news broadcast came on. It became panic in the club, and on the streets. There was rioting and looting, it was crazy. We tried to get home, but a gang of guys recognized Tommy and I. Diggle got stabbed, he's laid up in the hospital right now. That is where we were, Det. Lance."

"Alright, easy enough to confirm." Lance wrote onto his pad. The threesome shared an eye flicker of communication while the man's gaze was withdrawn. "Mr Merlyn," Lance rose his head. "Want to tell me why you suddenly decided to quit your job as general manager at Verdant and work for your father two months ago; when as far as anyone else knows, including myself, that you haven't shown an ounce of interest in taking over?"

"It wasn't suddenly," Tommy told him. "Getting accused of drug dealing and harassed by an angry father who just happens to also be police turns a guy off the club scene. I'm not that stupid kid any more, I didn't want to be dragged down by my past. And after my father almost getting assassinated," he paused, "I wanted to mend our relationship; he was the only parent I had left."

"And your father never told you anything about his plans while you were 'mending' your relationship as you claim?" Lance continued to hammer and accuse. "Perhaps your are a good of actor as your father was, and you've been in on his entire plan from the beginning. Destroying the Glades, killing all those people, I'm sure the aftermath would make you a rich businessman. Maybe everyone here is just covering your ass and your were at your father's company tonight when he was killed-"

"No." Tommy's voice cracked in his turmoil.

"Hey!" Oliver barked, standing. "That's enough!"

Thea had been shaking with anger herself between the two men for a while now, and she couldn't sit here and watch as Lance kicked Tommy while he was down anymore. "You're just attacking him 'cause you hate him." She jumped to her feet, her fists clenched at her sides. "You've always hated both our families. Even before what happened to Sara. But this has nothing to do with her. I'm sorry, but she's not coming back and that doesn't mean you can just attack us. Tommy just lost his father, whether he was a good man or not, it doesn't matter. He hasn't done anything wrong and he doesn't deserve to be treated like this!"

They were all saved from what might have been a scary fallout when a scene tech ducked into the room and had a quick head-ducked conversation with Lance before leaving as quickly as he'd come. Lance didn't appear too happy with whatever news he was given, which could only mean good news for Team Hood.

"The house is clean of any evidence tying Moira Queen to this... Undertaking," Lance finally spoke, his jaw tight. "So far only her confession on city news ties her to this. Malcolm Merlyn, on the other hand, has a Petri dish of evidence growing on him by the hour." He looked at each of them. "None of you are to leave the city. You are to be available for further questioning should the need arise—and it will."

Walter rose. "I'll see you and your officers to the door, detective." He offered like a good host. Lance didn't seem impressed as he left the room after one last 'subtle' sneer at the couch, his shadow briefly turning British.

It was silent and still in the tea room, until they heard the front door shut in the foyer.

"Christ!" Tommy buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shook as he tried to suppress the very unwanted and underserved tears. "Why am I crying for that evil bastard?" Felicity and Thea hugged him from either side.

"He was your father, Thomas." Walter murmured as he returned. "No matter what he may have done, he was your father and you still loved him."

"I _hate_ him!" Tommy denied, raising his head, his blue-eyes glossy with tears. "He's hurt so many, stepped through them without a care. Your dad..." he looked at the Queen siblings. He stood, shaking off the sympathy as he paced a short distance away. He looked at the tall man, "Walter, I-"

"Thomas," Walter placed his hands on either of his shoulders. "You are to blame for none of what has happened. You had nothing to do with your father's plans." And he pulled him in for an embrace.

Tommy squeezed back; this was what a father's touch was supposed to inspire. "Thank you."

Walter called for tea afterward, to help calm everyone as they stayed in each others company for comfort and reassurance; before he said goodnight. "Get some rest, everyone. Tomorrow is going to be even longer than tonight, we are all going to need our rest and to be on our toes." Thea hugged him before he left.

"Felicity," Thea took the woman's wrist. "You can borrow a pair of my pyjamas."

"Oh, okay." And started to lead the blond away.

"Hey, hey." Tommy stopped them. He approached, giving Thea a pointed look ( _girlfriend, remember?_ it said) before he turned his attention the computer genius. "Hey," he whispered, cupping her face.

She smiled. "Hi."

He pressed his mouth to hers in a soft kiss. "I love that I get to kiss you now."

"I love that you kiss me now, too." She smiled warmly against his lips.

"You guys are so giving me a toothache," Thea grinned happily at them.

Tommy chuckled and gave her a one-armed hug, pecking her hair. "Goodnight, Speedy."

"Night, Tommy."

"Try not to stay up too late," he told Felicity, kissing her again, his forehead resting briefly against hers. He knew she had her work cut out for her, covering his and Oliver's sloppy tracks tonight, trying to catch up with all their lies.

"I won't," she promised when he finally pulled back, and followed Thea upstairs and leaving the two best-friends.

"Tommy," Oliver started softy when they were left alone.

"Felicity said you went over to Laurel's the other night." Tommy said, grasping control of the conversation before the blond could as the pressing question from earlier tonight. "Was it... a sleepover?" he waggled his brows suggestively, he was only half-teasing.

"We were interrupted before it could become a sleepover," he answered slowly.

"Does that mean something _did_ happen?"

Oliver was silent for a long moment. "We slept together," he finally said quietly, giving the man what he wanted.

Tommy gaped. "Whoa. I told Felicity you went and grew some heart-balls when I left, I'm sad I missed it. And proud of you," he clapped him on the shoulder.

"Heart-balls." Oliver repeated drily. "Cute."

"And how was it? I don't mean the sex-part, not to make it awkward, but I know about the sex-part. So?" he finished as Oliver gave him a glare. "After?"

Oliver inhaled deeply. "We weren't able to talk much about it with this last night, but... I think we're going to give it another shot. We have a very messy past, but we're different people now. And without the list now..." he left it unsaid but Tommy got it completely.

"At least something good finally came out of this whole thing," he remarked, thinking of Felicity.

 **OW**

When Tommy got home to the mansion, late that evening, he simply went to his room and crawled onto the covers, and pulled a pillow over his head.

It had been a few weeks since The Undertaking had failed, and the police had finally released Merlyn Global Group; and since Tommy had been working tirelessly in dismantling his father's empire and selling it cheap for parts. Of course, all MG employees were getting a generous severance package after Felicity vetted them. And the Merlyn Family Home, he was seriously thinking of just burning the thing to the ground and all that was left of Malcolm Merlyn.

"Mm." Tommy mumbled when he felt heavy weight of another shift the bed as he started to dose.

"It's time." Oliver told him.

"What?" he questioned in confusion.

"It's been three weeks, Tommy. I've let it go for that long, but now it's time that you tell me."

"Are you high or something?" Tommy shifted the pillow so he could see best-friend. "You're not making sense."

"Malcolm's dead," Oliver reminded him.

"Thanks for reminding me," Tommy deadpanned. He pushed himself up so he was sitting and glared. "Just spit it out."

"There's nothing he can do now." Oliver said more softly.

"I know he can't. I had him cremated to make sure of it."

"What about Thea?" Oliver questioned. "In the lair that night-"

"Goddamnit, Oliver!" Tommy climbed from the bed and spun on his friend; he'd been steadfast in avoiding this question for a reason. "I already told you-!"

"She's my sister!" Oliver mirrored him. "How can I protect her if I don't know what the threat is?"

"Malcolm's dead, there's no threat to her!" he shouted. "He can't lay his hands on Thea!"

"Yes?" Thea stuck her head in the open bedroom door at that crucial moment. Both men whipped around to face her. "Sorry, thought I heard my name."

"You did." Oliver blurted before Tommy could cover, changing tactics and grasping the opportunity that presented itself.

"Oh?" she straightened and stepped in.

Tommy was shooting daggers at the blond. "You're making a mistake, Oliver."

Oliver stepped closer to Thea and turned to Tommy. "Tommy has something that he wants to tell you, Thea."

"Then I guess you have something important that you should tell her, too, then." Tommy snarked harshly.

Oliver glared at the threat. "Try it."

Tommy just shook his head. "I'm leaving," he said, starting for the door. "I'm just going to stay at the house."

"Tommy-" Thea started to protest.

"Don't run away." Oliver grabbed his arm instead as he passed, and flipped the dark-haired man before he could react.

Thea let out a scream, jumping back. "Oliver, what the hell are you doing?!" she rushed over and grabbed her brother's shoulder, "Get off of him, Ollie!"

But Oliver was solid as he pinned Tommy to the floor on his back. "Even dead you're letting him control your life, Tommy."

"And I'm keeping yours free," he avowed, not struggling against the man. "You have your family back, Ollie. Moira's home without charges pressed; Walter stayed. You're back with Laurel." He looked over his shoulder at the scared and confused teen. "Thea is safe." He swallowed and looked back at the man, "Why would you want to dig up some old skeleton that's going to wreck all of that?"

"Will someone tell me what is going on?" Thea looked between the pair of them anxiously.

"Tommy," Oliver said softly.

"Please, Ollie." He begged painfully through the lump in his throat. "Don't make me." He felt a clawing weight on his heart.

"Tommy?" Thea whispered the plea. "What did I do?"

"Oliver, get off me!" Tommy gasped, shoving at the man's chest. Oliver quickly shifted off of him on the floor as Tommy sat up, panting. "You have done nothing wrong, Thea. Nothing. I promise." He held out his hand and she took it instantly, dropping to her knees on his other side.

"Then what is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Tommy took a deep breath. "What I'm about tell you will be hard for both of you to hear," he looked between the siblings, but focused on Thea; this affected her the most. "This doesn't change anything about who you are, or your family."

"Just tell me," she urged.

"When I started working with my- Malcolm," he corrected himself, "I started remembering things from my childhood. The two-years that he disappeared after my mom's funeral, I saw him once and I wasn't supposed to. It was in 1994... the same year that our parents had their affair."

"I don't understand," she admitted, glancing across at her brother who was wearing an expression she'd never seen before.

"Around nine months later-" he started.

"You were born." Oliver croaked in realization.

Both men turned to her. Thea was still, her expression frozen.

"Hey," Oliver rose to his knees and rubbed her shoulder. "It's going to be okay. Malcolm is just your biological father, he's not your real dad. Robert loved you, Thea. You were his princess, and let's be honest," he gave a wet chuckle, "His favourite. You are _his_ daughter. You are a Queen."

Tommy started to reach for her, but hesitated halfway there; he probably wouldn't want to be comforted by him either. But Thea surprised him and snatched his hand, clutching it to her stomach as tears overflowed her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

"Thea," he uttered, but didn't know what to say, how to take it back.

"We're siblings." She finally whispered.

Tommy nodded. "Thea, I'm sorry-"

"Why are you sorry?" she interrupted.

"Everything that happened to you-" he started.

"Was Malcolm's fault, Tommy." Oliver said.

"He's my father, my responsibility."

"And my father, too, apparently." Thea said wryly.

"Thea-" both men started in concern.

She shook her head. "Mom cheated on dad, once, with his best-friend as a way to get back at him for cheating on her—and she got pregnant with me. If it wasn't for that... I wouldn't be here. There might have been a Thea Dearden Queen, but she wouldn't have been me. What I'm trying to say is... I'm glad. If I was ever thankful to Malcolm Merlyn for anything, it would be that—and you." She gave him a soft smile, "You're not alone anymore, Tommy."

"You are incredible, you know that?" he told her, feeling his heart unclench. "I always wished that you were my sister, too. I guess wishes do come true,"

Thea chuckled and looked embarrassed. "I wanted to marry you when I was a kid."

Tommy gave her a small grin and a wink. "Moira would have freaked."

"So would I have," Oliver growled and made them both snigger at his glower.

She rose to her knees, leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. "He always frightened me," she whispered, hugging him.

"Me, too." Tommy murmured. "Robert was always a better father to the both of us than Malcolm could have been." He rubbed her back.

She unlooped one arm and dragged Oliver in, too. "I didn't forget about you, Ollie."

Oliver chuckled. "Glad I haven't been pushed aside by the new brother on the block." He wrapped an arm around her waist and the other Tommy's back.

"Guess Malcolm did something right after all." Tommy remarked.

"Knocked up mom?" Oliver said.

Thea snorted. "That's gross, Ollie!"

They parted, but stayed on the floor in a circle, sharing smiles and chuckles.

"What's your secret?" Thea broke the silence and looked at Oliver.

"What?"

Tommy burst out laughing at the expression on his face. "That is priceless!" he pointed and Oliver smacked his hand.

"Well?" she wondered. "Tommy said you wanted to tell me something, too."

"I hate you so much right now." Oliver reported to his best-friend. He looked at their sister, "Maybe when you're older."

"What are you talking about? I'm eighteen, Ollie!" she protested. "If I can handle the fact that Malcolm Merlyn is my biological father, I think I can handle pretty much anything."

And Tommy just laughed harder, pawing at the man as tears streamed down his cheeks and his body tried to decide if it was more important to breathe or laugh.

"It's not funny, Tommy!" she complained and swatted at him.

"Trust me, it is!" and he rolled her way and started to tickle.

"It really isn't." Oliver agreed with his sister, but smiled at the pair of them as their sister squealed with laughter.

 _THE END_

 **aRROW**

* * *

 _Well, that's it, the end of this series. I hoped you enjoyed reading it, because I enjoyed writing it. Thanks to all who have read and to all who took the time to comment and like_ — _I_ _appreciate_ _them all._

 _The entire mansion scene with Lance was completely spur of the moment. Originally I was going to skip to the end with Tommy revealing that Thea is his half-sister. I think I tied up any loose ends and I hope the whole: THEA, MALCOLM IS YOUR FATHER, thing wasn't pushing it and made for a good ending._

 _And don't forget The FLOMMY! Finally brought those two together, though it was brief, I trust you all enjoyed._

 _I will_ _ **not**_ _be continuing this into the second season, that's partly why I had Tommy reveal that Malcolm was Thea's father. If you want to check out an amazing story where Tommy Is Alive! in Season two, I suggest you check out "_ _ **He Deserves a Shot (At Being Happy**_ _)" By:_ _ **ChronicOlicity**_ _on AO3._

* * *

 **DELETED TEXT:**

TOMMY: "You're a stranger to me, a monster."

...

"Diggle called. He says that he's okay and it's just a 'surface wound'. They want to keep him overnight and release him in the morning." Felicity said.

"That's a relief," Tommy said.

"Good." Oliver nodded. "We would be having another conversation if Tommy hadn't intercepted."

"And Thea," Felicity said. "Your cell phone has been ringing off the hook, metaphorically speaking. I would have answered it, but it's not like I could really tell her her brother was currently dressed up in a leather hood shooting arrows at his best-friend's dad." She handed him his phone.

"I'm sorry, Thea. Thing are more than a little crazy in the Glades right now. We ran into some trouble trying to get away- | Diggle has to stay overnight, and Tommy just got a few stitches. | We're fine. We're heading home. | Yes, right now. I promise."

x


End file.
